


STRANGULATE | Markicest

by RyeAmbrose, SheeraAyame (RyeAmbrose)



Category: Markicest - Fandom, Markiplier/Darkiplier - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Blood and Gore, Kidnapping, M/M, Magical Realism, Markicest, MarkxDark, Psychic Abilities, Serial Killers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:47:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 28,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26916106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RyeAmbrose/pseuds/RyeAmbrose, https://archiveofourown.org/users/RyeAmbrose/pseuds/SheeraAyame
Summary: UPDATES ON HOLD. Check this story out on Wattpad to keep reading! We’re on Chapter 55 over there :)..."I have tears from presidents, kings and queens, even servants. From them, I have power. Not the power of reigning over nations, but the power of knowing one's secrets."➿Mark, a renowned serial killer, murders celebrities of all kinds.Twenty-six kills later, he makes it his goal to kill an Evolved--a person with abilities. When he sets his sights on Dark, the infamous Tear Stealer, he enters a game he has no idea of how to win and knocks himself into a war he never knew existed.
Relationships: Mark Fischbach/Darkiplier, Mark Fischbach/Mark Fischbach
Comments: 8
Kudos: 12





	1. STRANGULATE

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there, and welcome to my fic "Strangulate!"
> 
> Updates are every Sunday and Wednesday around 5pm EST.
> 
> I had a lot of fun writing this, so I hope you enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark kills a man and prepares him for dinner with his friend, Ethan. He introduces his idea to kill an Evolved, a person with abilities.

...

The man struggled in his hands, choking against his vice grip. Hands grasping. Flailing. Quiet cries for help.

Mark squeezed harder, heaving through teeth. He shoved the man down to his knees. Muscle spasmed beneath his fingers. The pulse of life. The man scratched every part of him, but he kept his grip.

“Just a little more,” he hissed. He banged the man’s head against the concrete. Blood sprayed on the ground. Crimson. Black in the moonlight.

Mark gasped for breath as the man went limp, giving one last squeeze before pulling away. His heart pumped in his ear, a ferocious drum, and a smile grew on his panting lips. He brushed back his hair with bloody fingers, reaching into his coat pocket for a vial and a dropper.

Kneeling closer to the body, he pressed the dropper into the man’s thick blood, letting it ooze into the tiny, gem-like vial. He sealed it with a bit of cork, stowing away the items into his pockets.

“I can see it now,” huffed Mark, still breathless. “The press panicking again. The government stressing that they can’t catch me.”

He pulled out tweezers and plucked out strands of the man’s hair, storing them away in a plastic bag that he hid in his coat.

“I’m right beneath their noses.”

He pulled out his phone, scrolling down to one of the contacts and pressing call. After a few rings, it picked up, and a voice came through the line.

“Amy,” said Mark with a singsong voice. “Care to help out a friend?”

He received a pleased ‘yes’ and an ‘I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.’ Mark smiled.

“Perfect. I’m in the third location.”

He hung up to find another contact, pressing call and waiting a few moments for an answer. Finally, the line picked up, and he held the phone up to his ear.

“Ethan,” greeted Mark with a smile. “What do you say for some dinner with me tonight?”

  
  


Fifteen minutes later, Amy walked onto the scene, clothed in all-black and latex gloves. She greeted Mark with a nod, eyes flitting down to the body on the floor.

“You hit him good,” she said, kneeling by the cadaver’s head and examining it. Her eyes widened, and she pouted. “Is this Eric Myers?”

“B-List actor and naturalist activist? Yes, he is,” said Mark with a grin. Amy groaned, standing up.

“I actually liked this guy,” she whined with a stamp of her foot.

“I know,” said Mark, walking up to the body. A dark light came across his eyes, and he rose a brow at Amy. “You wanna keep his head? It’d be like his signature but more.”

Amy laughed at that, hovering her hands over her stomach. “Oh, I wish,” she snorted, gazing down at the celebrity. “But my job is to get rid of evidence. Not keep it.”

“And I applaud you for that,” said Mark. “Ready to get to work?”

She nodded, and Mark lifted up the body with a grunt, the dead weight taxing his muscles. Amy pulled a few items out of her thick belt to clean up the blood, and they both set to work, removing the scene of any possible evidence and tracking misleads as they left.

  
  


“This is my twenty-sixth kill,” said Mark as he set up the kitchen table, smiling over at Ethan. “A few more, and my collection should be complete.”

“The fact you haven’t been caught yet surprises me,” said Ethan, bringing the main dish and setting it in the middle of the table: roasted leg. “All these articles and attention around you? You’d expect your sentence to be coming right around the corner.”

Mark smirked as they both sat down across from each other. 

“I’m careful,” he said.

Ethan nodded and chuckled. _“And_ you eat your evidence. Or at least—” He motioned to Mark’s pocket. “—most of it.”

At that, Mark slipped out a string of jewelry and set it on the table, staring at it with admiration. He stroked his finger down its rigid components, remembering every kill it held.

“Ethan,” he said after a moment of silence, staring at the end of the decorated string. “I want the final piece of this necklace to be an Evolved’s.”

Ethan jolted, brows raising. “What?”

“An Evolved,” he repeated, lifting the handmade jewelry and letting it tilt in the light. He gave a twisted smile. “Wouldn’t that look so great? An emblem of their body—right in the middle.”

“You’re talking of suicide, Mark,” pointed out Ethan, setting down his knife. Mark hummed, picking up his own knife and slicing off a sliver of what was once the man he’d killed hours ago.

“I kill famous people, Ethan,” he said, watching his fork slide apart the strings of human meat with satisfaction. He lifted the morsel up to his mouth, chewing and humming in absolute delight. “How hard can it be?”

“Yeah, those are _people,”_ he said. “The Evolved—” He motioned his hands. “—they’re—”

“Still people,” said Mark, eating another forkful as Ethan’s mouth bobbed up and down as he searched for words.

“They have powers,” he tried reasoning.

“Not really,” said Mark, putting down his fork. “They have… _abilities,_ is more like it. It’s not like they can control the elements or all that fantasy bullshit.”

Ethan leaned forward in his seat. “They may have simple abilities,” he said, “but they still have an advantage over us with them. They have something we don’t.”

“It’s not like I’m going for someone like Antinstine,” chuckled Mark. He shook his head, hand hovering over the pocket with the jewelry. “No, I’m going for someone easier, obviously, but with still enough fame around him.”

Ethan sighed, reaching over and serving himself a sliver of meat as he rose a brow at Mark. “I have a feeling I won’t like who’s name comes out of your mouth.”

Mark stared evenly at Ethan, a smirk toying the edges of his lips. “Oh, you won’t,” he said with pride, straightening himself in his seat. “I’m going to kill the Tear Stealer.” His eyes glimmered. “I want a vial of his tears for the final piece.”

Ethan’s eyes fluttered, and he held up a hand to stop Mark from talking. _“Him?”_

Mark nodded with a smile, and Ethan shook his head in disbelief.

“He’s known across the _world,_ Mark,” said Ethan. “He’s been with presidents, royalty, government officials, you name it—”

“Which makes me want to murder him even more,” said Mark with a grin. “Come on, don’t look so horrified, it’ll be fun! Killing celebrities gets tiring after a while.”

“So killing an Evolved is something new for you to try.”

“I’m not asking you to support me,” said Mark. “I _did_ expect you to be a little more excited for me, though.”

Ethan rolled his eyes, folding over the meat and stuffing it in his mouth. “Whatever,” he said through chewing. “If you get in trouble though, don’t blame me.”

“You’ll look for me if I go missing though, right?”

Ethan rose a brow. “I may be your friend, Mark,” he said, “but I’m not killing myself searching for your ass. I don’t mess with the Evolved.” He cut himself another piece of meat. “Plus, I like killing others myself. Rescuing you would end that joy for me.”

“Well, that’s reassuring,” sighed Mark with a laugh.

“This meat’s amazing, by the way,” said Ethan, dropping the subject. “I can taste his fear, though. Strangulation?”

“On the dot,” said Mark with a grin. Ethan returned the gesture, and they lapsed into silence, leaving behind the conversation of the Evolved and enjoying their dinner.


	2. JUGULAR

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After murdering another celebrity, Mark comes across a rather enlightening article about him.

“Thanks for joining me for dinner,” said Mark as he put away the dishes, briefly rinsing them before drying his hands and turning towards Ethan. 

“Of course,” he said. “It was great as usual.”

Mark led him towards the door, hand hovering behind Ethan’s back. “You’re sure you don’t want to kill with me tomorrow?”

Ethan chuckled, turning towards Mark as they stood in front of the door. “Next time,” he said. “I’ll come over when your methods are a little less violent.”

“Mm, poison’s no fun, though,” teased Mark, and Ethan only rolled his eyes, smiling at the other.

“No poison and I’m not joining,” he said, opening the door. Once he was half-way out the door, he stopped, looking over his shoulder and staring evenly at Mark.

“Don’t go for the Tear Stealer,” he warned, eyes stern. “Going after him is nothing but trouble.”

Mark rolled his eyes and shooed Ethan out the door. “Yeah, yeah,” he said. “I’ll call you when I’m ready for you.”

Ethan huffed through his nose, and he sighed aloud. “See you next time, Mark.”

“Buh-bye,” he mumbled, watching him exit onto the calm, desolate sidewalk. Once Ethan faded from view, he closed the door and turned around, rubbing his hands together.

“Now, who should I kill next?” Mark muttered to himself, heading back into the kitchen. His eyes swept the room, landing on the wet, gleaming blade from dinner.

His eyes gleamed, and a toothy smile stretched across his lips.

“Perfect,” he breathed.

  
  


Mark slipped past the bodyguards and into the bathroom, lingering behind the celebrity at the urinal. He stayed still, eyeing both him and the door, and waited for him to finish his business.

“Calvin Clyde,” he said once he heard the sound of a zipper. Calvin whirled around with wide eyes, raising a hand to his chest.

“Jesus!” he cursed. “Uhm—why are you here?”

“Public restroom,” said Mark. “I know this is a weird place to confront you about this—” He walked closer to Calvin, left hand sliding down to the knife in his pocket “—but I wanted to congratulate you for winning the reward. You deserve it—what with all your hard work and dedication.”

Calvin fidgeted in his spot, distracted and confounded by Mark. “I—thank you—”

Mark forced his hand over Calvin’s mouth and slammed him against the tiled wall. Blood smeared on the tile. Calvin’s eyes widened. Nostrils flared. Panic scrabbled from his throat.

Adrenaline spiked through Mark. Exciting, delightful, invigorating. His focus zoned in on the flailing celebrity, and he held onto his mouth with vice-like grip.

Mark dragged him into the stall, using his body weight to force him onto his knees. Calvin gave a muffled cry. Tears slipped from his eyes and into Mark’s hand.

Mark slipped out his knife and pressed it against his throat. Calvin flailed. He dug it into his skin. Sliding, thick, sharp.

He ripped the blade across his throat in a clean arch. Calvin gasped and gurgled. Choking on blood. Mark watched with fascination as blood sprayed all over the tile and floor.

Calvin slumped onto the toilet bowl, his jugular gushing blood into the water until it became a deep, dark red. Mark licked his lips and smiled, reaching over for some toilet paper to soak up the dribbling blood from his blade. He dropped it on the floor, stooping over Calvin’s vaguely twitching body and plucking a few golden hairs from his scalp. To complete his task, he took one of Calvin’s cufflinks, storing it into his pocket.

“You didn’t deserve that award by the way,” said Mark smugly. He reached into his pocket and dropped a few hairs that belonged to someone else to lead the FBI in the wrong direction.

Mark walked out of the stall, boots clean, and examined himself in the mirror. Hair mussed up and a splatter of blood on his cheek. He quickly fixed himself up, slicking back his hair and wiping away the blood, winking at his reflection.

“You okay in there, Calvin?” called one of the guards through the door.

Mark jumped, straightening his jacket. He cleared his throat and said a little quietly, “I’ll be a while!”

He received no response and gave a sigh of relief. Now, to exit—harder than entering.

Mark walked up to the door and hovered his ear by it, careful not to press any DNA into the wood. With a gloved hand, he carefully opened the door a sliver, peering through it. The guards stood there like statues, attention undivided and stature poised.

_ Cursed Calvin and his paranoia,  _ thought Mark ironically. He kept peering through the door for a while more, smiling when a rather pretty woman walked past the bathroom. The bodyguards’ posture shifted, and Mark took his chance, slipping behind them and into the crowd. The guards stirred and looked at each other, talking over the gust of wind they felt and choosing to ignore it.

Mark smirked, slipping off his glove and stowing it away as he quickly made his exit.

  
  


“You’ve done it again, Mark,” said Amy, her smile bleeding through the phone. A ping came up on his laptop, showing Amy’s message. “Check out the link I sent you.”

Mark smirked in satisfaction, bringing his mouse over and clicking it.

“You think Ethan’ll be pissed with me?”

Amy laughed through the line. “Pissed? No. Shocked? Maybe. He always worries when you go big like this, but once the media spike passes, he remembers how skilled you are.”

Mark hummed, browsing over the article. He chuckled. “Breaking News: Celebrity Killer Strikes Again,” he read aloud, his voice full of amusement. “The beloved actor, Calvin Clyde, has just been murdered yesterday evening.”

Mark snickered, shaking his head. “They sound so sad and pathetic,” he hummed, browsing the rest of the article. “All I’m bothered about is the name they gave me: Celebrity Killer?”

“Well, it’s true.”

“Not creative, though,” said Mark with a smile. He scrolled down further, lazily skimming the article. His brows shot up when they landed on a word.

“Amy—how far did you read?”

“Only the title, really,” she yawned. “No point in reading the rest.”

Mark squinted his eyes at the article, blinking his eyes. He shook his head, turned away from his computer for a moment, and glanced back at it. The word was still there.

“Something wrong?”

Mark opened and closed his mouth, fingers shifting around the edges of his phone. “The middle of the article,” he said slowly. “It… Here, I’ll read it.”

He shifted in his seat, leaning against his desk, and said into the speaker, “‘Speculation suggests that the Celebrity Killer could be an Evolved. This mass serial killer has been able to hide under FBI radar and government controls for years. Though still unknown, data greatly supports the idea of another rabid Evolved. Could they be trying to uproot segments of our society at a time?’”

Mark scrolled down further. “And here, at the end: ‘Stay tuned for more… blah-blah… yes,  _ here _ —could the Celebrity Killer be working with the feared Antinstine?’”

A shocked silence came over the line. Mark tapped his foot on the ground, waiting for Amy’s response. 

After a while, he only received a feeble “wow.”

“I don’t know if I should take this as good news or bad news,” said Mark, staring at the words ‘Evolved’ and ‘Celebrity Killer’ in the same paragraph.

“Well,” said Amy, equally shocked, “you could use it to your advantage.”

Mark hummed, scratching his head. “How?”

“Authorities are always hesitant around tracking down Evolved persons. Even if their powers are really small, they still run a risk when catching them.”

Mark licked his lips, brows furrowed in thought. “It could also attract other Evolveds to me.”

“That’s a con,” said Amy simply.

_ Or a pro,  _ thought Mark, thinking about the Tear Stealer. A smirk caught his lips, and he leaned back in his chair.

“Thanks for sharing with me, Amy,” he said. “I’ll work something out.”

“Have fun,” she said. They hung up, and Mark stared at the words on his computer screen, nervousness coiling in his chest but also excitement rising in his blood.

“Tear Stealer here I come,” he said with a sick smirk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, and have a wonderful day!
> 
> -Kass xoxo


	3. TELEVISION

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark hits a dead end when researching the Tear Stealer, until Ethan comes bearing helpful information.

Mark remembered when he first saw the Tear Stealer on television. He was one of the first Evolved to show themselves in a stately manner—not threatening anyone’s lives. 

He stood on the president’s right side, red eyes sweeping calmly over the crowd. His black robes draped down his fit form, hovering above the floor elegantly. Despite his youth, power and authority bled through his aura, outmatching the president’s. 

The Tear Stealer’s appearance was the first glimpse of hope for normal people to be one with the Evolveds, rather than fear their veneer of power. That their fear needn’t exist. 

Mark pulled himself from his thoughts, staring at the article on his laptop. Further information on the Tear Stealer. 

Despite the Evolved’s appearance on TV, not all hopes were answered. Six years later—now—and relations between normal people and the Evolved remained rocky. Barely would authorities intervene in cases concerning the Evolved, which gave them freedom to do what they pleased. 

Mark hummed as he read through the article, scratching his scruff. Same age, similar features… He shook his head as he couldn’t find any weaknesses. 

_ People are too scared to find out.  _

He browsed his computer and went onto the next article, which began in fine print like all the rest: “All of the following information is based only on oral and visual evidence. There have been no official tests to conduct the veracity of the following information.”

Mark sighed, shaking his head. “I don’t even know where he lives,” he muttered, typing in  _ ‘Tear Stealer location.’  _ Only vague whereabouts appeared; paltry locations. Photos of a grand mansion—desolate, alone. No guarantee that the Evolved lived there. 

He debated texting Amy if she knew anyone who spied on the Evolveds, leaning back in his seat. After a bit of mulling over the idea, he pulled up Amy’s contact and texted the simple words, “I have another favor.”

A few minutes later, she replied in the form of a call, and Mark answered, putting the phone by his ear. 

“What is it this time?” she asked through the line, a faint sigh in her tone. Mark hesitantly smiled. 

“I wanted to know if you have any connections,” he said. “With people who study the Evolved.”

A silence came over the line. 

“What do you have to do with the Evolveds?”

Mark hesitated for a moment. “Well, I’m curious—”

“You’re never just curious, Mark,” said Amy. “You learn things to take action.”

Mark’s fingers hovered over the necklace in his pocket, not answering. A pause fell between them. 

“You want to interact with one,” said Amy, voice quiet. “Mark, is that what you’re planning?”

Mark sighed, waving a hand in the air. “So what if I am?”

“You do realize,” said Amy, “that once you make contact with an Evolved, they don’t forget you.”

Mark huffed. “Go big or go home.”

Another stunned silence cut through the line. 

“Are you…” Amy paused. “Are you planning on  _ killing  _ an Evolved?”

“I just want information on one,” said Mark, half-lying. Amy huffed. 

“You’re a bad liar, you know that?” she laughed. 

“And yet I’ve never been caught,” Mark chided back. Amy gave a dismissive sigh.

“Fine. I have just the girl for what you need.”

“Thanks, Amy,” said Mark with a smile, inwardly cheering in victory. 

“Yeah, whatever,” she said. Before he hung up, she added, “And Mark? If you’re really going through with killing an Evolved—you better make history.”

Mark smirked. “Oh, I will. Thanks again.”

“Be safe.”

They hung up, and seconds later, a message popped up on Mark’s phone. 

“Pam,” he breathed, adding the short name to his contacts. He went into his messages, sending a simple text of who he was and what he wanted, then laid back, awaiting their reply.

———

“I saw what you did,” said Ethan as he walked into Mark’s house, “on the news.”

Mark smiled, closing the door behind him and watching Ethan walk into the living room. “I’m careful, like always,” he reassured, and Ethan only laughed.

“I’m not worried about you,” he said. “The way you killed Calvin, though… that was really gruesome.”

Mark shrugged and sat down on the couch, Ethan following suit. “I’ve seen worse.”

Ethan shook his head. “Anyway, that’s not what I came here for. I wanted to tell you something.”

“If it’s about killing the Tear Stealer—”

“I know where he lives.”

Mark’s brows shot up, and he faced Ethan. “You—what?”

Ethan sighed, shifting on the couch. “Look, I know I told you not to go after him, but I have a feeling you won’t listen to me. So, I reached out to one of my friends, and she gave me all the info she had on him. Where he goes the most, shops, hangs around. And where he lives.”

Mark blinked, mouth bobbing up and down. “Does your friend’s name happen to be Pam?”

Ethan rose a brow. “Pamela? Amy’s friend?”

Mark nodded, and Ethan shook his head.

“I—no, I didn’t. Pam only knows where the Tear Stealer lives.” He drew himself back, scratching the back of his neck and glancing to the side. “I… I got my information from another Evolved.”

Mark’s eyes widened, and his mouth dropped open. “What?”

“I wanted to get the best information!” defended Ethan, raising his hands in front of his chest. “Going after an Evolved is serious business, Mark. You can’t just go in blind and kill yourself!”

“I—I’m not mad, I’m just—” Mark vaguely shook his head, blinking fast. “I’m just shocked, is all. Even after telling me not to go after him, you still…” He gave a faint smile. “Thank you.”

Ethan blinked, hesitantly returning the smile. A thought mulled in the back of Mark’s head, and his brows began to furrow. “Wait… you said you got this information from an Evolved.”

“Yeah?”

Mark swallowed. “Why would they give you information like that? I-I mean— _ freely  _ without  _ question.  _ Don’t they look out for each other?” He stared at Ethan, dread coating his throat. “If you asked for information on the Tear Stealer—they’ll think  _ you’re  _ out for him. Ethan, what if they try to kill you—”

“That—that won’t happen,” said Ethan, shaking his head and waving a hand in dismissal. “The Evolveds are just like us—not everyone helps each other out. People can hate or like certain people.”

“Well, what did the Tear Stealer do to make his own kind hate him?” Mark muttered, lapsing into silence. He glared at the floor in thought, running a hand through his hair. Ethan shifted beside him.

“I asked the Evolved the same question,” he said, gazing steadily at Mark’s figure. “She didn’t really say anything, but I’m thinking they’re arguing over something.”

“Probably power,” chuckled Mark. He turned to Ethan. “You’re sure you’re safe?”

He nodded, sending Mark a reassuring smile. “I promise,” he said. “The way she spoke to me… she knew I wasn’t a threat.”

He clapped the side of Mark’s arm, laughing and cutting through the gravity of the atmosphere. “Now stop being all dark and gloomy! Let’s discuss the next person to murder.” He looked Mark in the eye. “Together.”

Mark’s eyes glinted in excitement, and he sighed, letting go of the subject. “Thanks again, Ethan,” he said.


	4. INTERCEPT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Tear Stealer catches wind of plans to kill him while Mark and Ethan obliviously plan the next victim for their next "murder-date."

“There’s going to be an ambush soon,” she said to the man’s back, keeping her stature upright and poised. In his hand, he toyed with a glass vial that held two drops of a clear liquid. “Eyes intercepted a call at the sound of your name. A human asked for information of your whereabouts.”

“A human,” droned the man, his voice low like a growl. His fingers tightened around the vial. “And who was the one who gave them my information?”

Raine straightened herself. “An Evolved from the other side,” she answered, tensing up. At her phrase, the man crushed the glass with a snarling grimace, cutting his fingers. Blackish blood dripped onto the floor.

“Name?”

“Konray,” she replied.

The man stood up, black robes sweeping about his feet and barely grazing against the glass shards. He turned around, red eyes gleaming in the darkness of the room.

“And this human,” he said, voice guttural like a wolf’s, “how high of a threat are they?”

“None, sir,” said Raine. “He’s not the one we have to worry about.”

When the man rose a brow, she quickly continued.

“Eyes did further research on him: Ethan Nestor. His public record is clean, though with her abilities, she found out he’s a criminal.” Raine tilted her chin up. “But the human didn’t harbor the information for himself. He collected it for another human.”

“Who?” the man snarled, teeth bared.

“We don’t know yet,” she said, clenching her fists at her sides. “But when Eyes had Xilef analyze the interception, he got a powerful aura—dangerous and determined.”

The man nodded, straightening himself and waving a hand in dismissal. “I can handle a human no matter their aura,” said the man, red eyes gleaming. “Thank you, Raine.”

She bowed her head in a flurry of pale grey hair, taking her leave. The man gazed over his shoulder and stared at the glass shards on the floor, the tears already soaked into its wooden surface.

“A human after me,” he muttered, bending down to pick up the shards. He dug it into his skin, watching his blood mix with the remnants of tears and feeling a faint rush. “How interesting…”

He tilted the bloodied glass under the dim lighting, watching it glint a faint blue.

“Now what does a human want with the Tear Stealer?”

———

“You like Rasta Sinclair?” laughed Mark as they continued talking about who to murder. “His shows are shit.”

“I like them!” Ethan defended with a smile. “Plus—Sinclair’s a lowlife celebrity—not that famous—which means he won’t be too noticeable. Killing him won’t cause too much media coverage like your stunts.”

Mark hummed, scratching under his chin. “True… but don’t you want someone a little more—athletic?” He snickered. “I mean, this is only if you want dinner.”

Ethan hummed, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’re right,” he said. “Need someone who looks tastier.”

Mark chuckled at that, and Ethan leaned forward on the couch, resting his elbows on his knees. 

“What if we just went after a random person?” he suggested, clapping his hands together. “Someone at a bar.”

Mark shrugged. “We could do that,” he said. “Isn’t that your usual preference?”

Ethan sheepishly smiled. “Well, I was trying to get a bit of your flavor in the murder, too.”

“Just going out with you is good enough with me,” said Mark, waving a hand. “Don’t worry about how I like how to do things.” He grinned. “So, that the plan? Go into a bar, poison someone, bring him home?”

Ethan nodded, threading through the details. “I won’t use a heavy poison, because that’d spoil the meat,” he said. “Oh! I could give him something light that would make him woozy, we drag him out, and you kill him however you want.”

“Sounds great,” said Mark. “How does Friday sound? We’ll kill our lucky winner by then.”

Ethan nodded. “That gives me plenty of time to get ready.”

Mark smiled, and a ping sounded from his pocket. He startled, pulling out his phone and looking at the message. “Ah, sorry,” he said, opening the text. Pam.

“What does it say?”

Mark stared at the address on his phone. There were no other words, just the location: 4427 Eagle Crossing.

“It’s the Tear Stealer’s address,” he said.

Ethan rose a brow. “How did you get that?”

“Pam,” said Mark, smiling over at him. “I asked Amy for someone who knew about the Evolved before you came over.”

Ethan chuckled, rolling his eyes in a teasing manner. “See? I knew you wouldn’t listen to me.” He glanced at Mark’s phone. “Did she send anything else?”

“Nope. Your Evolved has more information.”

Ethan gave a smirk of victory, and Mark put away his phone. “By the way,” he said, “could you tell me some of the places he goes to? I could see him up close—he won’t even see me.”

“Well, he goes to restaurants a lot,” he said. “Places like Lost Tree, Violet Tavern, Grey’s Lounge.”

“A foodie?”

“Doesn’t seem likely, but you never know,” said Ethan. “It’d make more sense he goes to places like that to talk about business.”

“Does he go anywhere more… average? Other than these fancy places.”

“No, not really,” said Ethan. “I don’t remember everything from the top of my head, but occasionally, he’d go to Iris’ Boutique for clothes and the Kroger down the street for food.”

“Down the street?”

“I said occasionally,” Ethan pointed out. “That’s—kinda scary, actually. A powerful Evolved so close to your home.”

“What if I passed by him without even noticing?”

Ethan made a face, shrugging to the side. “I’m pretty sure you’d notice,” he said. “Someone like him doesn’t go unnoticed by the public. That’s probably why he doesn’t go out much.”

Mark smirked. “How sad,” he mocked. “The Tear Stealer can’t go outside without being recognized.”

Ethan rolled his eyes. “Don’t get too cocky, now,” he warned. “He’s still an Evolved who can whoop your ass if you don’t outsmart him.”

Mark grunted at that, crossing his arms. “True,” he muttered. He turned towards Ethan, letting his hands relax in his lap. “You alright if I text you about other locations he goes to in the next few days? I want to try to spot him as much as possible.

Ethan nodded. “Yeah, I’ve got everything written down at my house. I’ll bring it when we meet up this Friday, too.”

“Perfect,” said Mark. “That brings me one step closer to killing the bastard.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! <3
> 
> If you'd like a deeper feel for the story, here's the [Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4SQjyD4MIXFe2ivfNRbNTk?si=LMBprq9iQzu4Q-NquprzJQ) link! <3


	5. POISON

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Mark and Ethan close in on their next victim, both the Tear Stealer and his accomplice pay them a visit.

The Tear Stealer gazed at the screens, face illuminated with the blue static of security footage. Eyes, a stout figure, hunched over the screens, pushing up her glasses.

“That’s him?” he asked, staring at the human on the screen walking down the sidewalks. Eyes nodded, using her ability to keep the cameras focused on the target’s frame.

“Ethan Nestor,” she said, his figure sharpening at the sound of his name. “He hasn’t said a word since he left his house.” A flash of Ethan’s house glitched across the screen, mimicking Eye’s thoughts. “No texts yet, either.”

“If he gives any sign of the other human, tell me,” said the Evolved, rising to his full height and glaring at the screens. “I’m bringing Xilef with me.”

“He’ll identify the human,” said Eyes confidently, and a flash of his face simmered on the screen. “I’ll keep you updated every time there’s a change, Mr. Edwards.”

He gave a small, twisted smile, nodding and patting Eyes’ shoulder. “Thank you,” he said. “I’ll be heading out now.”

Eyes merely nodded, and he left to fetch his accomplice.

———

Ethan glanced around the block, trying to shake off the unnerving feeling of being watched. He looked over his shoulder, down the sidewalk, through the alleyways, yet found nothing. The occasional people would walk past him, walking their dogs or chatting on their phones.

He sighed and shook his head. “You’re just paranoid,” he told himself, continuing his way to Mark’s house. Still, despite his words, he glanced around and snuck around the backway—out of sight from cameras and average people. A route that he and Mark planned in case either of them were in danger; not to be used often.

Ethan deeply sighed as he let the darkness wash over him, looking up to see the sky fading with sunset. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and continued down the alleyway, ducking under a tear in a chain fence once the walls opened up. His feet rustled through grass, and he sped across three lawns before sprinting up Mark’s backdoor. He knocked, glancing around, and waited.

The door swung open, revealing Mark’s raised brow and tight lips.

“Everything alright?” he asked, tipping his head out the door and glancing both ways. Ethan pushed past him, and Mark closed the door.

“Just—paranoid,” said Ethan. He added the lie: “I get skittish before I kill sometimes.”

“You’re sure?” asked Mark as they made their way into the kitchen, coming to a stop in front of the island counter.

“Yeah,” he said, pausing to stare Mark in the eye. “Don’t worry—it’s not going to affect tonight.”

Mark nodded, and Ethan smiled, pulling out items from his pockets: a baggie of pills, some powder, folded bits of paper, and a syringe. When Mark blinked at the last device, Ethan chuckled.

“In case things go wonky,” he said, patting the daunting needle. His eyes trained over to the paper. “This is for you. The Tear Stealer’s most visited places.”

Mark took it from his hands, stowing it away in his pocket with a grin. “Thanks.”

Ethan nodded, turning back to the marble counter. “Now,” he said, hands hovering over the pills and the powder. “Depending on how things go tonight determines which drug we use.” He pointed to the pills.

“This dissolves in seconds, but it’s visible before that—unless our guy has a dark drink. If he’s too close, we won’t use this. This is when he’s gone or completely distracted from his drink.” Ethan pointed to the powder, its white contents resembling a much more fun drug. “We’ll use the powder when he’s too close—not my favorite method, but it has its pros.”

Mark rose a brow, and he continued, turning to look at him.

“Say I drop some of the loose powder—well, that’s suspicious. Where the fuck did that shit come from, yknow?” He began to pack away the poisons into his pockets again. “I use the ol’  _ ‘oh, that’s my cocaine’  _ trick. Practically everyone falls for it. I offer him to try it with me, I’ll take him outside, and…”

“I could kill him from there,” said Mark, smiling. “I like it.”

Ethan smiled with a nod, leaning against the counter. “So, did you find out how you’ll do it? Clean or messy?”

Mark hummed, slipping out a switchblade from his pockets. Its surface gleamed daunting and thick. “I assumed that with the state of his blood, we should run him dry.” His eyes glinted. “Safer to eat.”

Ethan grinned at that, rubbing his hands together. “Awesome,” he said. “But—” He rose a finger. “If I see too much blood, I’m out.”

Mark laughed, stowing the knife away. “For a killer, you sure get queasy at the best parts of a murder.”

“Oh, shut up,” he snickered, hitting Mark’s arm. “Let me rest for a bit, and we’ll head out. Sound good?”

“The later the hour, the fewer the witnesses,” hummed Mark, and they headed to the living room, resting and mulling over their future kill.

———

The killers loaded into Mark’s car, veins thrumming with excitement. He smiled over at Ethan from the driver’s side, pressing the button to open the garage.

“Ready?” he asked.

Ethan nodded, hand hovering over the pocket that held the poisons. “First stop: Red Beard Tavern.”

———

“I haven’t heard from you in an hour, Eyes,” said the Tear Stealer, gazing at the streets through gleaming red eyes. At his side stood Xilef, the Aurist, eyes black and void—searching for similar auras to the one he felt during the interception.

“His location disappeared,” said Eyes through the intercom in his ear. “Like the place he stopped at was tap-proof.”

“An educated human,” mumbled the Tear Stealer. A gasp came through his ear, and he rose a brow. “What’d you find?”

“Nestor’s location reappeared. Zooming in now.” A pause came through the line. “He’s driving—could be an Uber driver or your little fan.” 

“Where.”

“They’re making a stop at the Red Beard Tavern.”

He made a sound of disdain and straightened himself. “I’m logging off.” He tapped his ear piece and glanced aside at Xilef, exchanging curt nods.

———

Mark parked on the side of the road, shoving the keys in his pocket and glancing at Ethan. They exchanged smiles before exiting and locking the car, walking into the bar: a dingy, ratty place, thrown off to the sides of society, but perfect for staying under the radar.

As they entered, musk and alcohol flew into their faces—a wall of warmth. Mark hid a grimace, the chatter of drunken dullards filling his ears.

“This is another reason why I don’t drink,” he grumbled, sweeping his eyes across the tavern. No alert faces; all dulled and waxen through booze. 

“Yeah,” laughed Ethan. “That, and you’ll die if you do.”

Mark smirked and playfully glared at him, and they sat down at the bartender’s table. Music thrummed through the wooden walls, dampening the atmosphere.

“Found anyone yet?” Mark asked Ethan, who ordered them two drinks to blend in better: a whiskey and a root beer. Mark smiled sourly at the beverage, pulling it close to him and taking a sip.

“Very end,” muttered Ethan, glancing sideways at the possible victim. Mark carefully trained his eyes in that direction, finding a man hunched over a pure vodka. A greyed beard adorned his shaggy face, clothes worn yet not fully distressed. Mark pursed his lips and hummed at the sight.

“Closed off from everyone—no sign of friends. Protection,” said Mark into his drink. “Good. Not…  _ delicious,  _ though.”

Ethan hummed, turning around in his seat to act like he was watching television. Its screen blistered and hissed with static, chipped at a corner. Multiple people hung around the round tables in the tavern, mildly chatting but mostly focusing on their beers. No one else sat alone.

“Should we go to another bar?” mumbed Ethan, staring at the edge of the TV to keep up his act. Mark hummed beside him, nose scrunching. 

“Nah,” he said. “Unless you want something with more  _ pizazz.” _

Ethan turned around, taking a small swig from his untouched whiskey. “He’s fine,” said Ethan with a smile. “I don’t like too much attention anyway. Guy like him disappearing? No one really cares.”

“Could be a cop.”

“You kidding me?” snickered Ethan. “LA officers may go undercover, but they have signs that give them away. You see the way he sits?” 

Mark slightly glanced over at the man.

“His back is worn from countless days of hunching over like that. Pitiful, really.” Ethan gazed at Mark with a smirk. “Professionals can recreate that. Not state officers.”

“I’m impressed,” said Mark, eyes glinting and half-lidded. “I wouldn’t have known the difference.”

Ethan smiled. “You learn a few things when you kill like me,” he said quietly, eyes gleaming. Mark glanced over at the man again, taking another sip of root beer.

“So what’s the plan?”

Ethan hummed, eyes sweeping up and down the older man’s figure. “Easy to approach,” he said. “He may be dead in the eyes but he’s focused on his drink. Wanna do the talking?”

“Sure,” said Mark. “So I’ll distract him—talk a bunch of nonsense. You’ll slip it then?”

Ethan nodded. “You’ll use some powder. If it spills and the cocaine trick doesn’t work, leave it up to me.” He glanced over at the man. “I’m sure it will, though. Give me a signal when you do it.”

Behind them, the doors opened—moonlight filtered through and a cold breeze blew by—but he ignored it. Ethan vaguely identified the newcomers and watched them sit in the far corner of the bar, turning around to watch Mark head over to the man and sit down beside him.

Ethan lingered in his seat, taking another swig of whiskey—small but enough to calm his nerves in the slightest.

In the far corner, the two newcomers watched the bar table.

“Is that him?” asked the Tear Stealer in a low rumble, eyeing Ethan through rimmed sunglasses. It hid the red glow of his eyes.

“Ethan Nestor, yes,” muttered Xilef, staring at him. “His aura is weak, but his inner self…” He faintly nodded. “Loyal. Powerful.”

After a few more moments, they watched Mark glance to the side and blink at Ethan. Xilef straightened in his seat and kept his eyes trained on Mark, noting his aura. 

“Dark,” he said, his stare unwavering. The Tear Stealer rose a brow and stared in his direction.

“You think that’s him?” he asked, staring at the back of Mark’s head.

Xilef’s eyes narrowed, and he focused on the human’s aura. “It’s dangerous, just like what I sensed from the interception.” His lips curled into an interested smirk. “His aura… it’s constantly shifting. Negative emotions bred into a sickly positive.”

“And yet,” said Dark with a pained, elegant drawl, “the human is so  _ scrawny _ .”

Xilef huffed through his nose in amusement, glancing at the Tear Stealer. “There is power in his build,” he said. “He’s strong for a human.”

When Xilef glanced back, the three of them were gone. Both he and Dark only caught a glimpse of them leaving.

“You say his aura is shifting,” said the Tear Stealer, standing up so his robes swayed below him. “Can you tell if he’s possibly an Evolved?”

Xilef shook his head. “I can only sense auras. We’re still human—only improved. Our auras are the same.” He stood as well, and they left through the front entrance. 

“If someone can identify an Evolved,” continued the Aurist, “it’s you, Dark.”

He hummed, breathing in the cold night air. “If he really plans to kill me,” he said, voice a low, regal drawl, “he’ll be a dead man walking.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! What are your thoughts so far?
> 
> Have a wonderful day, and stay safe out there <3
> 
> -Kass xoxo


	6. BLOODSPRAY

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Mark and Ethan take their "dinner" home, Dark takes a rather keen interest towards Mark.

Mark gripped the man’s throat, slamming him into the brick with ease. He cried out. Blood ran down his head.

Ethan watched.

Mark forced his head into the brick again, stunning him. He grabbed his hair. Spun him around. The man’s back into his chest.

“I never eat the face anyway,” he laughed, panting. Ethan grimaced at the sight of the bloodied face, drawing his hands to himself.

“Maybe we  _ should  _ have gone for Rasta Sinclair,” said Ethan, lip curled in disgust. Mark laughed, taking out his switchblade.

“Go get the car,” he said. “We can load it up faster, and you also won’t have evidence sprayed on you.”

Ethan gagged. “Yuck—blood sprays, I forgot,” he shuddered. He gave one last glance to the man before heading for the car, leaving Mark with the man. He grinned, pressing the blade into his jugular.

“It was nice knowing you, Charlie,” he said. The man shuddered. 

He ripped the knife across his throat, and blood sprayed across the brick in a glittering arch, painting it with a brighter red. Even the white back door of the bar reddened at the arch, blood dripping down its metal surface in a sickening display. 

Mark dropped the man to the floor with a thud, blood still gushing out of his neck. His hand flailed, trying to cover the wound, but his body spasmed and betrayed him. Blood poured from the wound, painting the floor a glossy, sticky red.

At this time, Ethan reversed the car into the scene, and the trunk popped open. Mark stowed away his knife as Ethan rolled down the window, craning his head outside to see what his friend created. His brows instantly knitted together.

“Ohhh, now  _ that  _ is sick,” he groaned, stomach churning at the gore. Mark ducked out of view to retrieve something from the trunk, returning with a heavy weapon. Ethan’s eyes shot open.

“You brought an  _ axe?!”  _ he shouted, staring at the ghastly sight of it. Mark shushed him, and Ethan nervously laughed, turning away from the sight. A sickening squelch made him flinch, and he grit his teeth.

“That’s where I get my dinner,” he said, shaking his head. “And I like dinner.”

He groaned, trying not to think about it. “He’s just a cow. Who makes a nice, juicy steak. Just a cow.”

The trunk slammed shut, and Mark sidled into the car, spatters of blood on his face and clothes. Despite the amount of blood, his clothes weren’t soaked.

“Let’s go,” he said breathlessly, smiling over at Ethan. He gave an amused scoff, and they drove off, leaving the man’s body in the pool of blood.

“You left misleads again?” asked Ethan, raising a brow at Mark. He nodded with a smile.

“Got some hairs from another guy in the bar,” he said. “It’ll distract the police enough for them to give up on his sorry ass.”

Ethan smiled at that. 

“Good job, by the way,” said Mark, leaning back in his seat. “I had fun tonight.”

Ethan hummed, turning and finding the house up ahead. “So, what’s for dinner? Leg, again?”

“Leg for tonight,” he said, “and leg for another time.” He gave a prideful grin. “I got a little extra in celebration.”

They parked on the side of the road and exited the car. Again, that suspicious feeling tingled Ethan’s spine, and he looked around the block. Mark rose a brow at him, his bloodied shirt evident in the streetlights. 

“You go and fetch the baskets,” said Ethan, leaning on the trunk. “I’ll watch over the car.”

Mark nodded, jogging up the stairs to his house and disappearing inside. While Ethan waiting, he squinted at his surroundings, eyes landing on a solitary camera under a streetlight.

Many miles away, Eyes drew back in her seat.

“He’s staring straight at me,” said Eyes, fingers tensing. She looked over her shoulder, looking at Dark. His face hovered close to hers. “Are you sure he’s not an Evolved?”

“We don’t know yet,” drawled Xilef, pulling himself from the shadows. “He seems to grow weary when you spy on him, though.”

“W-well—he made contact with Konray, and she’s an Evolved,” reasoned Eyes. “Only skilled humans or—other  _ Evolveds _ —know how to contact us.”

“Even if he is,” said the Tear Stealer, “he’s no threat. It’s the human he gave my information to I want.”

Eyes turned back to the screen, and Mark came out of his house, wearing a new shirt and carrying two grocery baskets. “Is that him, Xilef?” she asked, keeping her focus trained on the screens. Ethan broke his stare from the camera, and she zoomed in on Mark’s face.

Dark straightened himself, losing his breath.

“Um—well he’s quite handsome,” said Eyes, adjusting her glasses. “Let me bring up his profile—”

“Don’t.” Dark rose a hand to stop her, and Eyes glanced over her shoulder at him, brow raised. “If he really is my ‘killer,’ I want to learn about him myself.”

Eyes glanced at Dark, then at Xilef, looking between the two. A knowing smirk curled on the Aurist’s lips, and he rose an amused brow at Eyes.

“I’m going to excuse myself,” said Xilef, a lilt to his normally deadpanned tone. “The shadows call for meditation.”

Dark vaguely waved a hand in dismissal, eyes burning holes into the screen where Mark’s eyes were.

Ethan deeply sighed, the tingling leaving his spine. Mark rose a brow at him.

“You alright?” 

“Meh,” shrugged Ethan, taking one of the baskets. Now that the camera was off of him, his tenseness relieved. “I’m getting that paranoid feeling again.”

“Do you think it’s anxiety?”

They stood in front of the trunk, blocking its view to the outside world, and opened it, revealing the freshly cut legs. Bone peered from the oozing muscle, and Ethan gave a disgusted laugh.

“I enjoy eating this,” he said in disbelief, placing down the basket in the trunk. Mark handed him a pair of latex gloves, and he slipped them on, picking up the leg and placing it in the opaque basket. Mark followed suit, and they carried their heavy loads, closing the trunk and heading into the house.

That tingling sensation came back, and Ethan lingered, glaring into the distance. It completely stopped, and he hummed, slowly following behind Mark. Once the door shut behind them, they began to prepare the meat for both saving and the night’s dinner.


	7. CENTAURI PARK

Mark read the paper that Ethan left behind, noting all of the Tear Stealer’s most frequently-visited locations.

“Centauri Park,” he muttered, not familiar with the place. He stowed the paper in his drawer, pulling up his phone to search for the location.

_ 53 minutes away. _

Mark frowned at the time but shrugged. If he were to kill this Evolved, he had to learn his patterns; the way he moved, how he reacted to different stimuli… 

“Looks like we’re going on a road trip,” he said, glancing out the window. The beginnings of evening trickled with warm light.

Mark got himself ready, grabbing his keys and a jacket, and loaded into the car. He opened the garage, checking his mirrors, and backed out of the house.

Through the cameras, Eyes perked up. “He’s leaving,” she said, waving her hand to catch Dark’s attention. The Tear Stealer quickly stooped down, robes swaying, and watched the screen. Mark’s Tesla rolled down the street, turning into the highway.

“Can you pick up on any GPS signals?” asked the Tear Stealer, kneeling by Eyes and resting his arm on her desk. She glanced at him for a moment, turning back to the screen. 

“Let me see,” she said, unable to help the smile on her face. What Xilef told her was right —Dark’s interest in the human was like that of a lovesick puppy.

The screen shimmered as she squinted, picking up on Mark’s phone. The navigator popped up on a second screen to their right, revealing the current route.

“He’s heading to Centauri Park,” said Eyes, adjusting her glasses. “It’s quite the drive.”

Dark went to his feet, bristling. “I visit the park often,” he said, glancing down at Eyes, who broke her attention from the screens. “It’s only minutes from us.”

Eyes blinked, brows raising. “Do you think he’s on his way to kill you?”

The Tear Stealer’s jaw tightened, and he glanced aside. “It’s a possibility.” He straightened himself, glancing at the GPS on the second screen. 

“He’ll be here soon,” he said, looking at Eyes. “Keep me posted on his location and what he does. Lux and I are going on a little adventure.”

“Should I tell the others to prepare for the human?”

Dark shook his head. “No need. If he’s stopping at the park, I’ll have time to tell you anything that changes.”

Eyes nodded, and the Tear Stealer headed down the hall, robes playing with the shadows of the mansion.

\----

_ “You have reached your destination: Centauri Park.” _

Mark slowed to a halt, parking on the side of the road. He took in his surroundings, something twisting with wrong in his chest. For the last ten minutes of his drive, everything went silent—little sign of life. Despite being in the middle of a neighbourhood, everything bled with a sense of quiet, danger, and power. No one came out of their houses—doors closed, blinds shut tight. Even the white paint echoed with lonesomeness.

Mark clambered out of the car, locking it. It beeped, the sound ringing down the street as if he were in a narrow hallway. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, walking over to the park sign. 

_ Centauri Park,  _ it said with elegant, formed letters. Below was a vague description of how the park came to be. He skimmed over it, already bored with the details, until his eyes caught on the words.

_...created for the Evolved community. _

Mark’s lashes fluttered, and he stared at it.  _ Community? _

He had always assumed Evolveds lived as rogues—walking among normal people and showcasing their abilities whenever they saw fit. Only the most powerful had the power to reign over others—like Antinstine or the Tear Stealer.

Mark glanced around, still finding no one. Cautious on his feet, he began walking down the paved road of the park.

News channels barely spoke of Evolveds—only stated the most remarkable one’s abilities or their status. It was only through rumors that Mark heard of how they might live or interact with each other.

Mark took a detour, walking into the flowing grass and staring up at the emerging stars.

“No one’s here,” he breathed, sweeping his eyes across the park. It was beautiful, no doubt—weaving grass sprouted from the fertile soil, waving in a tranc-elike state; trees reached for the stars with black limbs, varied in size. It extended into the horizon, enormous, and beautiful, and—Mark took a deep breath, smiling faintly—blessed with fresh air.

A few yards away, hidden behind the Night trees, stood the Tear Stealer and his accomplice, Lux.

“This human wants to kill you?” breathed Lux, turning their head towards Dark. He nodded, staring out of the trees and at Mark, taking in the sight without the need for a screen. “He has no presence.”

The Tear Stealer smirked at that, gazing down at Lux. Warm white hair pooled down their shoulders, straight and dripping like candle wax. 

“You think he’s looking for you?” asked Lux, turning their amber eyes that glimmered like fire towards Dark.

“Yes,” said the Tear Stealer. “That’s why I had you come with me.”

Lux nodded. “You want a projection.”

“Exactly.” 

At those words, Mark treaded further through the grass, looking around at the park. Dark nodded his head. 

“Now.”

Mark glanced at the trees, unknowing of the two hidden Evolveds. Up ahead, the grass rustled, and he snapped his head towards the source. 

_ What if I actually make contact with an Evolved?  _ thought Mark, and he gulped. 

The rustling grew louder, and Mark took a step towards the trees, keeping his eyes trained on the sound source. A few branches snapped, and the Tear Stealer came out from the trees. 

Mark gasped and darted into the thicket, ducking behind a tree and keeping his eyes on the Tear Stealer the entire time. 

Only feet away, plain in sight, stood the real Tear Stealer. Dark’s breath hitched, and he jabbed Lux in the ribs. 

“Hide us,” he hissed. Lux quickly shot his hand in the air, grabbed at darkness, and pulled it down over them, letting them blend in with the shadows. 

Mark dug his fingers into the damp, dark wood of the tree, peering at the illusion with wide eyes and shallow breaths. There he was—the Tear Stealer—living, breathing, roaming… 

Mark’s heart beat in his throat, and he dared to take a step closer for a better view. 

The illusion walked through the grass, which faintly rustled, robes fluttering elegantly. In real life, the Tear Stealer looked nothing like what Mark had seen from photos of him online; they could only imagine to match the beauty of the sight before him. 

The Tear Stealer stood tall, authoritative, and regal. Robes pooling down a slender, built body. His thin legs stepped through the grass, taking large steps with the elegance of an elk.

_ I could kill him now,  _ thought Mark, staring at the illusion of the Tear Stealer. But as he stared longer, the thought faded. His eyes focused on the features of his face, though the distance blurred the lines of his figure.

“Look at him,” whispered Lux, juggling their focus from the illusion to Mark and back. “Such wonder in his human eyes.”

Dark barely heard Lux’s mocking tone, entranced by the sight of Mark. “I wonder what he’s thinking,” he muttered. Lux made a twitch with their hand, and the illusion halted, glancing around.

Mark flinched, hiding behind the tree, eyes wide. A flash of red eyes swept passed his hiding spot, and he huffed in relief.

Slowly, he walked behind the line of trees, keeping his eyes trained on the Tear Stealer. A few seconds later, the illusion mimicked his motions, walking further through the park.

Mark halted, watching the illusion continue. He swallowed, slipping out his phone and sending a quick text to Ethan.

_ I’m feet away from the Tear Stealer. _

He opened the camera app, and as he did so, Lux bristled in the shadows. Their head snapped towards Dark.

“The illusion won’t show up on camera,” hissed Lux, eyes glowing like embers. “If he looks over the photos—”

“He’ll assume that’s one of my abilities,” reasoned the Tear Stealer. Lux hesitated, then shook his head.

“How would you explain when you go on air? Cameras, Mr. Edwards.”

“Trust me,” said Dark with a smirk, staring at Mark. So close, so  _ reachable.  _ “Humans are very gullible.”

Lux made a face but said nothing, watching as Mark lined up his camera to the illusion, brows furrowing when he saw nothing but the park—as if no one were there.

“What the hell?” he muttered, looking through the phone again before slipping it back into his pocket. Dark shifted at the sound of the human’s voice, hearing it for the first time.

He straightened himself, pulling himself from his thoughts. “I’ve seen enough,” he said quietly. 

Lux nodded. “Let me make a realistic exit.”

As he said that, Mark neared their hiding spot, only one step away. Dark straightened himself, repulsed and intrigued at the closeness. Lux pressed a finger to their lips, trying to move their hand slowly to keep Mark from hearing the rustling of their sleeves.

Dark stared at Mark, examining every inch of him in the darkness. A few inches shorter, curious brown eyes, youthful features… The Tear Stealer found himself leaning towards Mark, eyes flickering down to his lips.

_ For a human,  _ he thought,  _ he really is quite extraordinary. _

Lux flicked their hand, and the illusion made its way towards the trees. Mark watched, not following, carefully stepping back to lean against a tree. He took a deep breath, chest expanding, and cautiously exhaled, closing his eyes and resting his head against the tree.

_ I saw him,  _ thought Mark, running a hand through his hair.  _ I saw the Tear Stealer. _

He huffed, smiling, and faintly shook his head in disbelief.

Lux turned his head towards Dark, nodding his head. The Tear Stealer returned the gesture, and Lux tightened his fist, strengthening the dark veil around them. Carefully, they walked away from Mark, feet a whisper on the leaves.

Mark stirred, a faint wind chilling his skin as they left. He looked to his right but found nothing, deeming it a figment of his imagination.

“I’ll kill you soon,” whispered Mark, and, checking his surroundings, he carefully made his way across the park and into the warmth of his car, still stunned at his find.


	8. THE OTHER SIDE

Ethan called Mark later that night after receiving his text. When Mark answered, Ethan breathed a sigh of relief.

“Oh, thank God — you’re alive,” he said.

Mark rose a brow, one hand on the steering wheel and the other holding his phone. “Did you think I was dead?”

“You could have been,” Ethan pointed out. “What if he saw you?”

“I was hiding behind some trees,” said Mark. “He glanced my way once but there was no way he could’ve known I was there.”

“So… when are you going to do it?” asked Ethan tentatively through the line, and Mark pressed his phone harder against his ear, trying to hear clearer.

“Do what?”

Ethan paused for a moment before saying again: “The Tear Stealer —”

At the sound of his name, Eyes’ screen pinged through the darkness. She jumped, pulling up their live feed. “Mr. Edwards!” she called. “It’s them.”

“...when are you going to kill him?” continued Ethan.

A silence fell over the line, and Dark walked up to Eyes’ desk, staring down at the screens with a tired yet intense gaze. His robes lazily fluttered at his feet.

“I…” Mark paused, the sound of his car rumbling through the audio. “I don’t know.”

“Have you changed your mind?” asked Ethan. 

“No,” said Mark, letting out a laugh. Dark merely stared. “No, no, I’m still going to kill him.”

Eyes glanced over her shoulder at the Tear Stealer, whose gaze remained vacant, unable to read.

“Seeing him today… I have a lot more to learn before I can go through with it.”

The line paused again, and Ethan lapsed into a serious tone. “I’m not telling you to  _ not  _ do it,” he said, “but—you have to think about your options.” He paused. “What if they catch you? What would you do then, Mark?”

The Tear Stealer took a step closer to the screens, eager to hear his response. A pause came over the audio again, this time more tense.

“They won’t catch me,” said Mark after a while, voice tight. “They never do.”

“But if they  _ do,”  _ Ethan pressed on. “Look, I don’t want to lose you, Mark, but I also don’t want to stop you from going through with this. You just need to be smart about it. And—no—don’t even start saying that killing the Tear Stealer is gonna be like another one of your celebrities.”

Dark’s eyes fluttered at that, and Eyes turned to look up at him, her brows shot up.

“He’s the…?” she whispered.

“I won’t, I won’t,” huffed Mark. “I’ll come up with something soon, though.”

Ethan chuckled at that. “Well, tell me before you try to kill him,” he said. “I want to kill with you at least one more time before you disappear off the face of the earth.”

Mark laughed, and Eyes snapped her fingers in knowing at Ethan’s statement. “Don’t worry. We’ll have plenty more victims before then. See ya soon, Ethan.”

“See ya.”

With that, the call ended, leaving Eyes and the Tear Stealer staring at white static. A silence fell over them, and Dark looked down at Eyes.

“If you hear them make any more plans concerning me or other Evolveds,” he said, his voice a low, regal drawl, “tell me.” Eyes nodded, and Dark tightened the silver clasp around his neck that kept his (cape) in place. “It looks like I have to take a trip to the  _ Other Side.” _

Eyes’ brows rose, mouth falling open. “Sir—why?”

A grave look fell across the Tear Stealer’s face, and he drew himself back. “I need a favor.”

With that, he turned away to his quarters, preparing himself for an unorthodox visit.

—

The Tear Stealer stood at the doorway of his mansion, gazing into the darkness and preparing himself for the visit. He adjusted the silver clasp of his black shawl, hands clad in leather gloves. Then, with a final, tranquil breath, he stepped off the porch and walked into the woods.

Dense thicket brushed past him, dark and daunting, yet oozing with a sense of calm. Twigs and leaves snapped and rustled beneath his feet, worn through regular traffic. Up ahead, the moonlight grew stronger, filtering through the trees and casting highlights over the Tear Stealer’s graven features.

After nearly an hour of walking, warm village lights peeked through the trees up ahead. He quickened his pace, robes flowing as he walked. He passed through an invisible barrier, that shimmered a faint purple as he walked, and the rustling beneath his feet faded to faint clicks as the thicket became stone road.

He stood on the side of the road, gazing down the pathway at the small village—its houses spoke of warmth and happy living, built up with white brick or wood panels, sheltered by straw roofs. The design of the village mimicked that of the 19th century—completely separated from the modern world.

Though the village spoke of quiet and tranquility, there still stirred its people. Nocturnal Evolveds.

As he walked down the stone pathway, gazes followed him, varying in emotions—some scared or worried, some in awe, others enraged. A few of the Evolveds even spat at him or murmured his name as he passed them.

Walking further, under a street lamp, stood a black horse attached to a carriage. He neared it, finding a man sitting at the front reading a book.

“Excuse me, sir,” said Dark, reaching for his wallet and slipping out two golden coins. “I’d like to go to X Amani, please.”

The man looked down at him, eyes widening as he realized who he was. He waved his hand. “Don’t pay me,” he said. “Please, get in, sir.”

The Tear Stealer smirked, bowing his head in thanks and clambering into the carriage. A whip cracked through the air, and the horse whinnied; the carriage lurched into motion, and the click of the horse’s hooves echoed through the village as they sped off to the location. 

Dark brushed back the black curtain, peering through the open window and watching the village pass by. Slowly, the houses began to thin away, and trees marked a demarcation between village and city. Though small, more modern buildings sprouted from the ground, pulsing with more life than the quiet village. The carriage slowed in the slightest, still hasty, as Evolveds roamed every part of the paved roads.

The Tear Stealer closed the curtain, gazing ahead and at the back of the driver’s head. He had to stay hidden—the less he showed himself to people, the less they would talk. Information traveled fast with Evolveds, after all.

Music and chatter pulsed through the city, loud and cacophonous. Cars honked and tires screeched; other horses from the village neighed in protest. Dark relaxed in his seat, posture still impeccable, a sense of nostalgia running through him at the sound of the bustling city.

The carriage bumped over a pothole, and the Tear Stealer slid to one side of the seat, hand gripping at the edge of the window. He huffed a laugh, remembering the chaos of the city.

“How is she doing?” he called through the rectangular opening, catching the driver’s attention. “Your horse.”

Dark leaned forward in his seat, careful not to let his face show. Through the opening, he could see everything—the lights, the sloping buildings, the people. It put a smile to his face.

“She’s always anxious in the city,” said the man. “I do apologize, sir.”

“No need,” he said. “I’m used to a bit of mayhem.”

They continued through the city, compacted for its small size. Off in the distance, separated from the noise, stood a grand mansion, dismal and dim in comparison to the city—like it was shut off. Despite its cold appearance, it was enormous and daunting, looming over the city. The sight of it made Dark’s face fall.

_ Antinstine’s estate. _

The horse turned into a darker part of the city, still bustling yet less bright—torn down in places and shattered glass littering the sidewalks. Up ahead, the words ‘ _ X Amani’  _ gleamed in bright, static pink letters: a club. Music pulsed down the entire street, vibrating the floors and the sides of the buildings. Evolveds filtered in and out of the club, some worn and others freshly dressed for mindless partying.

They slowed to a stop at the side of the road, and the man leaned back and turned his head towards the opening, glancing at the Tear Stealer.

“If I may ask,” said the man, curious and afraid, “what business do you have here? A-are you going to see…  _ him? _ ” He adjusted his hands on the bridle. “Are you coming back to the city?”

Dark clambered out of the carriage, shoes clicking on the floor as he landed. He tossed a coin at the man, who fumbled to catch it.

“Any word that I was here and you’re dead to me,” he said, voice low in warning. The man gulped and straightened himself, nodding.

“Yes, sir. Thank you.”

The Tear Stealer smiled, waving him off, and headed towards the pulsing building, face falling back into its graven expression.

Time for that favor.


	9. X AMANI

The Tear Stealer clenched his jaw as the music pounded into his skull, deafeningly loud. Partygoers screamed and danced to the pulsing waves, knocking into each other and spilling their drinks. The scent of drugs burned his nose, staining his midnight garbs with sin.

Dark stared straight ahead, his presence like an invisible force that parted the sea of Evolveds. His robes swayed at his feet, merely catching on a few peoples’ grabbing hands and stomping feet. He turned, walking up to a desolate, empty stone door that practically whispered with meaning. A guard stood at its side.

“Tear Stealer,” said the guard, bristling. “Why are you here?”

“It’s obvious,” he said, voice projecting over the music with little effort. “I’m here to see Antinstine.”

“State your business with him.”

Dark furrowed his brows in distaste, red eyes gleaming. “I need a favor.”

The bodyguard rose a hairless brow, staring at him. “The Tear Stealer —a favor? What does a High Evolved need from Anti—”

Dark rose his hand as if he were going to grab the guard’s face, fingers poised and threatening. The guard flinched, quickly squinting his eyes as if it were going to protect him.

“Antinstine and I,” said Dark, pressing himself against the bodyguard, “are  _ civil  _ in our discussions. A lowlife like you wouldn’t understand.”

The bodyguard huffed through his nose, wincing when Dark tightened his fingers, the hint of his ability sending a sharp pain through the guard’s eyes. He bared his teeth.

“I apologize, sir,” said the guard. “I’ll let you through.”

Dark dropped his hand, and the guard slumped with a heaving sigh, quickly trying to restore his stature as an intimidating guard. He knocked on the door and pressed on his earpiece, saying the simple words, “T.S. is here.”

The guard glanced at Dark, who kept his threatening stance, pressing the ear piece again to nod.

“Five minutes,” he said, opening the stone door. The Tear Stealer nodded, pushing past the guard and entering the room. Once the stone door shut behind him, everything went quiet—the music only a whisper and a faint tap.

The room was made purely of stone, blocking off the outside world. Four walls—closed off, lit like a cell. In the middle stood a grey desk and the man he needed to talk to.

“Antinstine.”

The man raised his head, gaze hostile; green and blue eyes gleamed bright against the blank walls. 

“Dark,” he greeted, voice rough and jagged. He remained seated, staring at the other with such scorn that it could burn holes through the thick walls. “It’s been a while.” 

His eyes swept up and down Dark’s frame, ears twitching. “And you’re unarmed, too. Good.”

The Tear Stealer stepped forward, examining the state of the other Evolved. Antinstine grimaced under his scrutiny.

“I need a favor,” he said calmly, voice deep and assertive. Anti rose a brow, grinning with fanged teeth and snickering.

“Another one?” he laughed. “Last time you struck my end of the deal, you didn’t leave without  _ blood!  _ What makes you think I should help you again? _ ” _

The Tear Stealer frowned, inwardly grimacing at the memory. “I was younger then,” he reasoned. “Foolish and testy.”

“Mm, well you’re still foolish,” he said with a giggle, glancing down at his sharp black nails. He looked up at the Tear Stealer through half-lidded eyes, reclining and swinging his feet up onto the desk. “Tell me what you want. Then I’ll see if I want to help you.”

Dark inhaled, hands twitching. “One of my people picked up on a call,” he said. “A human who plans to kill me.” He paused. “I want to—”

Anti rose a brow, a smirk straining the edges of his lips. “A  _ human?  _ Well, there’s certainly no need to  _ worry  _ about something like that, Dark. Knowing you, you’d kill them in a heartbeat. Not me, though.” He chuckled, picking at his nails. “No, no, I like to  _ examine  _ the humans. Get under their skin.”

His eyes flashed as he returned his attention to the Tear Stealer. “I get it now—why you loved picking me apart.” He grinned, showing his glittering fangs, and Dark bristled. “It’s quite  _ exciting.” _

“I came here to ask for a favor,” snapped Dark, irritated from being interrupted, “not  _ catch up.” _

Anti’s grin fell, and he sighed dramatically, closing his eyes. “Ugh, you boring old slob,” he sighed. “Go on.”

The Tear Stealer huffed through his nose. “I want to borrow one of your Evolved’s abilities.” He paused. “Cibil.”

Anti slowly rose from his seat, limbs sweeping off of the desk and landing on the floor in one clean, violent motion. He stared at Dark, raising to his full height.

“She’s fragile,” he whispered, fingers twitching. “Young.”

“I just want to speak with her,” said Dark. “You can be there the entire time.”

Antinstine hummed, circling around the desk and leaning against it, his figure threatening. “All this for a human?” he asked, eyes flashing with interest. “Is he really a threat?”

“Most likely not,” Dark drawled. “Humans can be surprising, though.”

Anti crossed his arms, walking up to the Tear Stealer and staring him straight in the eye. “What are you going to ask Cibil?” he breathed, breath hot in his face. Dark didn’t even flinch, staring back with the same heat.

“I want to ask when the human is going to attack,” said the Tear Stealer quietly. “I have…  _ plans  _ for him.”

Anti squinted at him, intensely close, and hummed.

“Alright, then. What’s in it for me?” He stepped away, and Dark exhaled, glad to have some space again. “What do  _ I  _ want?”

The Tear Stealer straightened himself, staring evenly at Anti as he paced the room, thinking through the ordeal.

“Ah,” said Anti, stopping in place. “Yes, I know… I want something personal… close to home.”

He stepped forward, tapping his nails together. “One month,” he said. “I want an Evolved from your House to join mine.”

Dark bristled, shocked with his words. “That isn’t nearly as equal as mine—”

“You weren’t fair last time, Dark,” said Antinstine, raising a finger to stop him. “You left this city in blood and rubble, and did I go after you? No. Does this deal guarantee you won’t do the same again? Not at all.” His eyes flashed. “It  _ can  _ be a chance for you to make amends, though.”

The Tear Stealer grimaced, drawing back. Anti gave a victorious smirk. 

“Perfect,” he said. “Cibil’s insight for one of your people.”

He walked up to him again, holding out a hand. “Deal?”

Dark stared for a moment, mind whirring. Reluctantly, he slipped off his glove and took his hand, and Anti squeezed it with a smile, shaking it.

“Deal,” said the Tear Stealer.

Anti pulled his hand away, grinning with fangs. “Come back tomorrow night,” he said. “Nine o’clock.”

Dark nodded, turning towards the door. “See you tomorrow,” he said, and Anti mockingly waved goodbye. Once he opened the door, Anti flinched in the slightest at the barricade of noise, and then Dark left. His ears began to ring at the tumultuous sound, and he grimaced, bustling through the crowd and out into the cold night air.

He took a deep breath, the music still pumping through his body.

“I’ll kill him,” hissed Dark under his breath. “I’ll kill him.”

He sighed and glanced around the worn-down, empty street, reaching for a black clump of fabric hooked to his side. He flattened it out, revealing a hood, and clipped it onto his silver clasp, bringing it over his head to hide his face.

Then, he walked through the bustling city despite being forbidden to (from past agreements), allowing a smile to reach his lips as he looked at what used to be his home. Ideas began to float about his head, and he returned home quietly, carrying the weight of one of his people on his shoulders.


	10. CIBIL

Mark huffed as he snapped the man’s neck with all the force he could muster, falling against the wall as the man’s body thudded to the floor. He ran a hand through his hair, fingers burning and sore, and gave a small, breathless chuckle.

The image of the Tear Stealer faded from his mind as he stared at the dead body, bringing him back to reality. Three weeks had passed since his last sighting of the Evolved, and ever since, he’d been trying to catch sight of him in other places. No one out-of-the-ordinary had showed; only civilians going about their days.

The bloodlust in Mark’s veins pumped harder by the day, his mind and hands eager to kill. He’d resorted to random people—nobodies on the street. The desire to kill the Tear Stealer—someone so powerful, so  _ known _ —send thrills of anticipation down his spine.

Mark panted, pulling his knees up to his chest and staring at the body with half-lidded eyes. Scum. He’d resorted to killing scum.

He collected himself, standing and brushing himself off.

“Soon,” he huffed to himself, stepping over the body and leaving it there. “Soon.”

—

Three weeks before, the Tear Stealer returned to X Amani, listening to Antinstine’s orders concerning the deal. He rode in a carriage, the driver a different man, and soaked in the cacophony of the city. A weight beared down on his chest.

The carriage slowed to a halt in the decimated street, five minutes before nine o’clock. Dark thanked the driver and headed into the barricade of music and people, heading straight for the stone door. As he approached, the door swung open, and Anti exited, scorn in his eyes at the sudden pound of electricity assaulting his person. The bodyguard joined his side, and Anti made eye contact with the Tear Stealer.

They exchanged a look, and the three of them left the club, Anti a few steps ahead of them. Dark made sure to watch every single one of Antinstine’s movements.

Once they exited the pounding club, Anti took a deep breath of the cold, fresh air, sighing aloud.

“The electricity in there is  _ terrible,”  _ he groaned, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t see how anyone deals with it.”

“You could go somewhere else,” muttered Dark, and Anti sent him a glare.

“Don’t even start,” he snapped. “You’ve no idea of the pain you put in me.”

The Tear Stealer bristled, and the three of them stood on the edge of the curb, waiting. Anti’s foot tapped on the floor in both irritation and impatience, his surroundings irking him. Minutes later, a black limousine pull up, and the doors opened from the inside, displaying a rich, leather interior.

Anti clambered in first, eager to get away from the noise, and Dark followed suit, the bodyguard behind him. Anti and the bodyguard sat at the front of the limo, backs turned towards the driver, while Dark sat at the very end, facing them from afar. The door shut on its own, the vehicle thrumming with life, and began to drive. Dark and Anti maintained fierce eye contact the entire way, no word or sound getting in between them. Only the vague noise from the bustling city passed through.

Twenty minutes later, still uninterrupted, the limousine pulled to a halt, and Anti was the first to break the eye contact. Shuffling sounded in the driver’s area, and the doors slid open.

Antinstine exited, then the guard, and Dark reluctantly pulled himself from his seat to follow. The mansion instantly greeted them, looming over with golden arches and buttresses. Its size boasted that of a small town, grandiose and ornate.

The Tear Stealer bristled in his place, the sight of it like an insult to his own home. Antinstine seemed to notice, but didn’t point it out, allowing himself a secret smirk.

They headed up to the tall, arching doors, opening to find glossy, marble floor and glittering walls. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting everything in a brilliant light, banning shadows from even the most hidden corners.

The bodyguard eyed the Tear Stealer, and Anti waved a hand in dismissal.

“We’re good,” he said, and the bodyguard hesitated for a moment, obeying and turning away to one of the (probably) millions of rooms. Dark eyed Anti, face tight and shoulders drawn back.

Anti turned his multi-colored gaze to Dark and smirked, tilting his chin with the slightest air of hubris. “Come on,” he said simply. “Let’s meet Cibil.”

The Tear Stealer’s jaw tightened, and Anti led the way through his excessively-elaborate home. Glittering gold, ornate mirrors, paintings of Evolveds—he lived through absolute riches, and it was all because of his power.

Dark’s red-soled heels clicked on the marble flooring, which had been polished so cleanly that his reflection shimmered back up at him. A few other Evolveds passed by them, all on Anti’s side, sending the Tear Stealer wide-eyed or hateful looks. He ignored it all, focusing on the Evolved before him with utmost concentration.

The hallways began to lacken in their rich lustre, speaking more of a rustic home. Carpet now hugged the floor, swirling designs accentuating its figure. Simple doors lined the halls—bedrooms.

They passed through the hallway, turning through an opening, and an enormous room yawned before them, aching and breathing with history and age. The floors were made of a pristine, brown oak, opening up the room. Upon standing at the foot of it, it felt like the room were the size of the mansion itself. To their left, rustic curtains were tucked away to reveal the tall windows that reached the ceiling in arcs.

“There she is,” said Anti, breaking their long silence. Dark turned his eyes towards the center of the gigantic room, finding a young girl. A silk, pastel blue gown flowed down her lithe figure, ghostly on her pale, porcelain skin. 

“Cibil,” said Antinstine as they approached, and she turned her head, white-blonde hair falling over her shoulders. A pale blue blindfold hung gently across her eyes.

“Antinstine,” she greeted, willowy fingers gathering in her lap. She gazed at the Tear Stealer, lightly bowing. “Edwards.”

The Tear Stealer bowed his head in return, unsure if the girl could see his gesture. 

“Now, you remember why Dark is here,” said Anti. “Only answer when you’re ready.”

Cibil gave a pale, thin-lipped smile. “I’m ready now,” she said. “I can already sense what he wants to ask.” She turned to him. “He has many questions… but something keeps him from such curiosity.”

Anti rose a brow at that, and Dark shot him a look.

“Well, go on,” teased Anti. “Why don’t you ask away, Dark?” He grinned, fangs gleaming. “If that’s alright with you, of course,” he said to Cibil. The girl mimicked his grin.

“I’d love to,” she said, a sadistic lilt to her voice. Dark clenched his jaw, and Anti lightly hit his shoulder, urging him to get on with it. 

Dark took a deep breath and sighed, staring at where Cibil’s eyes would be. “There is a human who plans to kill me,” he said carefully, trying to ignore Anti’s sweltering presence at his side. “I’m sure you can see him now.”

Cibil gently lifted Dark’s hand, holding it in both of her own. She nodded.

“I want to know when he’ll attack,” continued the Tear Stealer.

Cibil’s fingers gently traced Dark’s fingers as she looked into the near future, her touch cold. A silence fell over them, permeated only through her soothing hums. Suddenly, her finger stopped, and cold bled into Dark’s hand at the contact. A vision.

“He’ll attack in three days,” she said. Anti shifted in his place, ready to leave now that the favor had been made, but she continued. “He’s going to sneak in through the window—in one of the empty quarters.” As she spoke, vague flashes of the future echoed in the back of Dark’s head, faintly showing what Cibil could see, but not the full picture.

She began to trace the outline of Dark’s hand again, this time backwards. “Upon knowing this information, your position is no longer in bed, but in the main hall. Standing in waiting to set your eyes upon the human.” There was a flash of him standing next to Xilef.

A smile graced Cibil’s lips, and the Tear Stealer leaned forward in the slightest, his attention sharp on her words and reactions.

“You’re eager,” she whispered, “even now.”

A thrum pulled through Dark’s chest, and he pulled away. Cibil, a step ahead of him, tightened her grip on his hands before he could even move. The Tear Stealer bristled, and Cibil’s smile widened, enjoying the control she had over the High Evolved.

“You’re fond of him,” she said, fingernails threatening to dig into his skin. “He will become something great in your future—”

“That’s enough,” said Dark, blocking the next flash. His jaw tightened when Cibil didn’t let go. Anti stepped forward, but Cibil sent a glance at him through her blindfold.

She leaned forward, her presence fluttering with lust at her newest vision. Her brows rose, and she licked her lips; Dark could feel it, too, and it made him uneasy.

“His tears taste sweet,” she whispered, breath fanning over Dark’s face. He swallowed, eyes widening at the flash of the last sight he expected to see, both repulsed and intrigued. Before he could make full sense of it, Cibil let go of him, and he huffed out in relief. Anti rose a brow at Cibil, then looked over at Dark, whose face gained a red hue.

“What the hell just happened?” he asked, voice cutting. Cibil’s smirk widened.

“I let him have some hope,” she said, teeth gleaming white beneath supple lips. Dark refrained from glaring at her, and Cibil folded her hands in her laps innocently.

“Don’t worry, Edwards,” she muttered. “I’m eager for what happens.”

The Tear Stealer collected himself, glancing away. “Thank you,” he said quietly. Anti met his gaze, and they shared a nod. Anti gave his own thanks before leading Dark out of the large room, taking them back the way they came.

“Whatever she showed you,” said Anti with a grimace, “I don’t like it.”

“Trust me,” snided Dark, lower belly thrumming at the thought. “I didn’t either.”

Despite his words, something in his chest tugged in resistance, telling himself he was lying. He shook his head, and they stopped at the main doors.

“Remember,” said Anti, aura threatening. “In one month, you give me one of your people.”

Dark’s jaw twitched, and he nodded, gaze intense. “One month,” he echoed. “I’ll see you then.”

Anti grinned, fangs gleaming, and waved a hand. “Have a terrible night,” he bid, and Dark rolled his eyes, pushing through the enormous doors and exiting the grand mansion. He took a deep breath, looking up into the night sky, and let the vision fragments swarm his head.

And as he fully embraced the visions, his eyes flew open and he gasped for air, clutching a hand to his racing chest, eager and surprised for what was to come.


	11. GOODBYES

As Mark loaded the body into the trunk, a silence hung over the air. Ethan waited in the driver’s seat, chest tight and knuckles white on the wheel.

Everything felt like a goodbye.

Once the trunk snapped to a close, Mark clambered into the Tesla, gazing over at Ethan to meet his crestfallen features. He hit his arm, smiling.

“Hey, quit brooding!” he laughed, trying to push aside that his chest felt tight, too. “This is a time for celebration,  _ Aaron.” _

Ethan cracked a smile at that, and he shook his head, pulling out of the alleyway and onto the main road.

“I know, it’s just… this might be the last time I see you, is all,” he said, sending him a glance. Mark quieted at that, gnawing the inside of his cheek. He glanced out the window, watching the houses flit by.

“I know,” he said. “But, I mean—we got to kill with each other again, didn’t we?”

Ethan’s smile widened. “And we’ll have dinner again,” he chuckled. “I can’t complain with that, I guess.”

They shared a smile and lapsed once more into silence, enjoying each other’s company.

After a few minutes, they pulled up to Mark’s house, loaded everything inside, and began preparing and cooking. Still, despite the laughs they shared and the quips they threw at each other, that vague wave of  _ goodbye  _ dragged in the air.

“So,” said Ethan, pulling the pan off the heat, “how are you going to do it?”

Mark rose a brow and hummed in question, pulling out two plates from the cupboard. He set them down by the stove, and Ethan plated the meat.

“Killing him,” said Ethan. “What’d you come up with?”

Mark hummed, sprinkling some salt on the meat and picking up both plates. They headed towards the dinner table.

“I’m gonna sneak in,” he said. “Tomorrow night, where I can’t be seen.”

“What if an Evolved has night vision or something?” Ethan pointed out. “You’d be caught without question.”

Mark shook his head, setting the plates down. They sat down across from each other. 

“I’ll be careful,” he said. “Plus, even if I die, it won’t be so bad.” When Ethan rose a brow, he continued. “I have amazing friends, a good life, and I do what I love.”

“Killing people,” murmured Ethan, cutting off a piece of what used to be a man’s arm. Mark made sure to gaze pointedly at Ethan. 

“I appreciate you, Ethan,” he said firmly. “I know I don’t listen to you a lot, but you really are so great to me.”

Ethan gaze at him, his smile growing and lip lightly quivering. “I—” He chuckled, shaking his head and wiping at his eyes. “Don’t make me cry like a baby, man.”

Mark chuckled. “I mean it.”

“Dude, if you die,” said Ethan, bringing back the lighter atmosphere, “I’m gonna kill you.”

“How does  _ that  _ even work?” he laughed, and Ethan shrugged, laughing too. 

“It just does, don’t question me!”

They lapsed out of their fit of laughter, and Ethan rested a hand on the table as if to reach out to Mark. “Hey,” he said tentatively, adding a solemn lilt to the energetic air. “I appreciate you, too, Mark.”

He smiled, eyes glittering. He waved his fork at Ethan’s plate, trying not to get emotional. “Your human’s getting cold,” he said, and Ethan gave a chuckle.

“Yours, too,” he said softly.

They gazed at each other, reveling in the silence, and continued with their meal.

—

Fifteen minutes away from Centauri park stood a tall mansion, dark, old, and sheltered in dense forestry. It was significantly smaller than Antinstine’s mansion—housing only fifteen bedrooms. Its white brick had been blackened by history, ivory mantelpieces faded with years. The mansion spoke of medieval times.

Through the lancet window of the highest conical spire stood the Tear Stealer, gazing over the trees and out at the nearby Community. People roamed through Centauri Park, and the roads gathered a fair amount of traffic.

Behind him, the door creaked, but he didn’t break his gaze. 

“He’s coming tomorrow night,” said Dark faintly, hands behind his back. A young woman, stature regal and carried to utmost perfection, joined his side, gazing calmly at his focused features.

“Everyone’s ready for the human,” she said quietly, blinking with thick lashes. Her straight black hair pooled down her face like quiet water. “Emery and Lux are to capture him.”

“Good,” he said. “And should anything go wrong, you’ll be there to give us time.”

The woman, Equinox, smiled with black lips, gazing out the window like the High Evolved beside her. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it,” she said. “All of those people, the abilities they harness… they’re living in peace with one another. Happy.”

The Tear Stealer allowed a slight smile, eyes trailing from the park to the neighbourhoods beyond—the human domiciles. “We’re faring better than Antinstine’s city, I’d say.” He tilted his chin up in the slightest. “While he strives for utter power over the weak, we strive for union between us.”

Equinox nodded, the steel beads around her neck clinking ever so softly. She returned her red-eyed gaze back to Dark, standing up straighter.

“If I may ask,” she said softly, “what will you do with the human?” Her medieval gown rustled as she shifted in place. “Will you kill him?”

The Tear Stealer hummed, glancing over at Equinox, whose pale face glowed despite the lack of light in the room.

“I’ll let him live for as long as I see fit,” he said with a thoughtful tone. “I want to get to know him. See how I can bend him to my benefit.”

The favor rang in the back of his head, but he pushed it aside, unwilling to tell any of his people of what was to come.

“I’ll take his tears and see who he really is.”

Equinox nodded, flattening the strings on the front of her corset. “We’re all waiting in anticipation,” she said with a smile. “I can’t wait to see what plays out.”

The Tear Stealer returned the smile, and Equinox exited the room, leaving Dark to his own thoughts. He gazed into the horizon, fingers twitching behind his back.

He wanted to see the human now.


	12. THE TEAR STEALER

Red eyes gleamed from the same window, eager and in waiting for the human’s arrival.

Dark’s fingers lightly tapped behind his back, ticking with impatience. His usual robes dripped down his body like black wax, the silver clasp around his neck tighter. Behind him, the door knocked, and he muttered a curt,  _ “Come in.” _

Xilef carefully made his way into the room, pure-black eyes examining the Tear Stealer’s figure.

“Once it’s dark, we’ll go downstairs,” he said. A pause fell between them, and Xilef’s eyes swept down Dark’s frame. “You’re at unease. Why?”

The Tear Stealer lingered, biting his tongue. Xilef took a step closer, leaning against the window to block most of his view.

“I’m your friend, Dark,” he said, trying to catch his eyes. “Is this human really a threat?”

Dark glanced over at Xilef, shoulders falling as he sighed. “Cibil showed me more than just the attack,” he said hesitantly. Xilef tensed at that, assuming the worst. “I—”

He huffed, sitting on the ledge of the window, skin prickling at the other’s intense gaze. His brows furrowed as he mulled over the next words.

“Xilef,” he said softly, pausing for a while. He swallowed, gazing at the floor. “Do you think humans and Evolveds could ever… live peacefully with one another?”

Xilef’s brows furrowed. “I thought we already do.”

The Tear Stealer shook his head. “No, no, I mean… I mean with  _ each other.  _ In the same homes, the same  _ relationships _ , whether that be—friends or even…”

The Aurist’s brows slowly rose as he realized what Dark was trying to say. “I… that idea’s preposterous, Dark. Humans and Evolveds—living together? Why, we’d  _ kill _ them.”

Dark worried at his bottom lip, lacing his fingers together.

“I want to tell you something,” he said, glancing over at Xilef with gleaming red eyes, “that you can’t tell  _ anyone  _ else. Not a damn soul.”

The Aurist nodded, eyes focused. “Of course,” he said softly, and Dark took a deep breath, fingers clenching and unclenching.

“When I spoke with Cibil,” he breathed, “she showed me a future.” He swallowed, wringing his hands together. “A future with the human.”

Xilef blinked, eyes widening, but stayed silent.

“And,” his brows furrowed, “as someone of my stature—falling for a  _ human.”  _ He shook his head. “The possibility’s insane.  _ I-impossible,  _ even.”

Dark glanced over at Xilef, whose face remained vacant.

“Cibil tells the truth,” said the Aurist after a while. “She may have gotten satisfaction from seeing your reaction, but she cannot lie about the future.”

Dark returned his gaze to the floor. “Maybe I should just kill him,” he said quietly. “He’s only a human.”

Xilef shrugged, gently shaking his head. “Cibil doesn’t give more than promised unless it’s vital information,” he said. “We’ll have to see how things play out.”

The Tear Stealer huffed, standing and collecting himself again. “Thank you, Xilef,” he sighed. He glanced out the window, finding the sun setting below the horizon. “Let’s get ready.”

Xilef stood with a nod, and they left the room to prepare for tonight’s attack.

—

Mark double-checked his pockets as the garage-door opened and the car rumbled to life.

_ Knife, syringe, steel cord, vial…  _

He took a deep breath, pulling out his phone to call Ethan as he sidled into the car. A few seconds passed, and the line picked up.

“Hey,” said Ethan. “Are you on the way to his house, now?”

Mark pulled out of his driveway, heading towards Centauri Park. “Yeah,” he said. “Just thought I’d call you before I do it.”

Ethan hummed. “You’re on your own, you know that,” he said. “I can’t help you if you’re caught.”

“I know,” he said, pulling up his GPS and typing in the Tear Stealer’s address. He gave a confident smile. “I’ll be in and out of there. Trust me.”

Ethan gave a suspicious hum. “Good luck, Mark,” he said, his smile showing through his voice. “Remember, I’ll kill you if you die.”

Mark laughed, shaking his head. “It’s a deal, then,” he chuckled. “Goodnight, Ethan.”

“Night.”

With that, he hung up the call and focused on driving, his mind focusing on the image of the Tear Stealer’s face and his blood on the walls.

—

One hour later, Mark passed Centauri Park and carefully drove down Eagle Crossing, eyeing the mailbox numbers before each house. Trees arched overhead, shunning out any light that the moon might hope to provide. No streetlamps hugged the street, leaving everything in darkness except for the path of Mark’s headlights.

He stopped at house 4221, a few houses away from the Tear Stealer’s home. With a deep breath, he checked his pockets again and exited the car, locking it. The headlights shut off, leaving him in swarming, open darkness.

Mark glanced around, watching his surroundings, and walked down the sidewalk, thumbing over the knife in his pocket. In his mind, he counted the numbers passing by:  _ 4223… 4225…  _

He took a deep breath, his heart pounding in anticipation. Despite his years of killing, everything felt different. This was an Evolved, and he had to be careful.

Inside the Tear Stealer’s mansion, hidden through a long driveway and the dense trees, sat Eyes in front of her monitors.

“He’s here,” she said, nodding over to Emery. He glanced over at Lux, and they separated into the unoccupied room of the manor. Eyes’ leg bounced as she stared at the screens.

In the main hall, lit only by blue candlelight, stood Dark and Xilef, waiting patiently for Mark’s arrival. Dark glanced out the stained-glass window, mind whirring and shoulders tense. Xilef’s light touch startled him.

“It’s going to be alright,” said Xilef quietly, eyes calm. The quiet of the manor settled over them. “Emery and Lux are in position.”

Dark sighed and nodded, straightening himself.

Outside, Mark reached House 4427, staring down its driveway with wide, excited eyes. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes and nodding to himself.

“I’ve got this,” he whispered.

He walked down the gravel driveway, walking alongside the trees in case anyone was patrolling the area. Lush grass rustled beneath his feet, and the tree bark felt cold underneath his fingertips as he ran his hand over them. Up ahead, a dim light flickered—a lantern up high.

Mark’s heart began to beat faster, and he crouched in the slightest, entire body loaded like a spring. More lights dappled into view, and as he kept walking, he saw multiple windows glimmering with candlelight. His eyes widened at the sight, trying to take in the prestige of the manor, but he forced himself to keep focus. He shook his head, making his way through the darkness.

His eyes landed on a quiet window on the ground level, which whispered of little life; dark. He swallowed, slipping out his knife and gripping it tightly, and approached the window.

“I’ve got this,” he repeated under his breath, his limbs practically vibrating with nervousness. 

He pressed himself against the mansion, carefully edging over to glance into the tinted window. The room was dark, its bed made and drawers untouched. With another deep breath, he went down to his knees and crawled so he was under the window, trying to find a way in. The window spoke of history—old and nowhere near modern—and Mark furrowed his brows at that.

Carefully, he raised his hands, pushing on the window. It gave under his touch. Swung open like a door.

His brows rose, surprised that it was unlocked.

Mark glanced around his surroundings again. Clear. He gazed into the room.

Clear.

He stood up. Pushed the window and climbed into the room.

Mark’s heart thudded in his throat, his hands shaking. 

_ I made it,  _ he thought, lightly panting.  _ I made it, I’m in his  _ house,  _ I-I’m in the  _ Tear Stealer’s  _ house _ —

He glanced around the room, finding it empty, and he gave himself a moment to breathe. After collecting himself again, he adjusted his grip on the knife, approaching the open doorway. He peered through it, glancing left and right to find endless hallways.

Mark walked forward, brows furrowing as he found himself unable to exit. He stepped forward, bumping into something. An invisible barrier.

His heart spiked, and he glanced around the room, still finding it empty.

He stared at the open doorway, reaching forward with his hand. Cold bled into his hand, stopping it from continuing, the blockade like stone. He pushed the barrier. It gave in, and he stumbled forward, making a sound of surprise.

Mark caught himself, hoping no one heard, and sighed in relief as nothing stirred.

“Weird,” he whispered. A cold gust of air swept past his left side, and he glanced behind him, eyes widening.

Hands grabbed him from behind. Over his mouth. Over his throat. He gasped, hands flying up. Kicking. Flailing.

Mark grabbed his knife and stabbed behind him, earning a yell. The hold released, and he fell forward, caught by strong arms.

He looked up, meeting furious eyes, and cursed.

_ Where did they come from?! _

Emery grabbed Mark by the throat, and he choked for air, gripping onto his hands. He stabbed the knife into Emery’s neck, but the blade snapped. It crumbled to the floor.

Mark’s eyes widened. He struggled, the air knocking out of his lungs as Emery slammed him into the wall.

Lux emerged from the shadows, their cheek bleeding from Mark’s knife, a snarl on their face. 

“Keep at it,” snarled Lux, glaring at Mark. “He can’t have any fight left in him when we take him to Edwards.”

_ Who the hell is that?  _ thought Mark, but the need for air halted all questions. He struggled, kicking and scratching, gripping, flailing, but Emery wouldn’t let go. Mark coughed, his throat burning and the edges of his vision ebbing.

“It’s so saddening,” said Emery, voice deep, “how weak humans are.”

Mark kicked out, right down south into Emery, and he shouted and let go, dropping Mark to the floor. He gasped for air, the oxygen blazing in his lungs. 

He jumped to his feet and sprinted out the door, stumbling. The bright hallway flickered, and all candlelight blew out.

He glanced over his shoulder, finding nothing.

“What the fuck,” he panted, glancing all around. Only left and right—front and back. Just hallways.

Mark fumbled in his pockets, pulling out the steel cord and holding it in both his hands. He stepped forward.

Shadows shot up from the floor, pummeling down into Mark. He shouted and fell to the floor, darkness shrouding his eyes. Cold filled his veins, and he struggled. He pushed up. Standing. Shadows pushed him back down.

He grimaced, gasping when the shadows disappeared all at once. Only hallway.

Hands gripped his arms, and he jolted, yelling out when Lux and Emery forced him to his feet, their grips tight enough to break bone.

“Let me go!” he yelled, kicking and tugging. 

Emery’s nose scrunched in distaste, and he grabbed the back of Mark’s collar, tugging it up and dragging him along like a dog by its scruff. Mark choked, punching Emery’s hands, but found no hope.

“Cooperate and you live,” hissed Emery, tugging the back of his collar harder. Mark choked, and Emery forced him to his feet. “Now  _ walk.” _

Mark winced, and Emery kept hold of his arm and collar, pushing him onward through the endless halls. Lux walked beside them, a pale hand pressed against his cheek to stop the bleeding. Mark couldn’t help but smirk in satisfaction despite his situation.

They continued through the halls, Mark still struggling and Emery still shoving, and the lights came back. The hallways opened, and a menacing door loomed ahead, blue light gleaming through the bottom of it.

Mark swallowed, tripping over his feet. “Where are you taking me?” he demanded.

They ignored him, and when they stopped in front of the door, Emery tugged Mark up close and leaned down to his ear.

“When we enter this room,” growled Emery, breath hot and disgusting against Mark’s ear, “you will not utter a  _ word.” _

Mark leaned his head away, grimacing and glaring, and Lux smacked his head straight. Mark winced, glaring at the Evolved.

“Stay in line,” they hissed, fangs sharp and glittering. Mark swallowed, grimacing at the pain in his body, and tugged his arm in Emery’s hold. His grip only tightened.

Emery nodded over to Lux, and they swung open the door, revealing the main hall. Emery shoved Mark inside, who tried to protest, eyes widening as they threw him onto his knees in the center of the hall.

Everything quieted as he rose his head, the gravity swarming and intemse.

There, only feet before him, stood the Tear Stealer in all his glory. Clothed in pure, glittering black with his figure demanding utmost attention, his back facing him.

The Tear Stealer glanced over his shoulder at the disturbance, turning to face Mark and gaze down at him, his red eyes flashing menacingly. Mark looked up at him, eyes wide, his entire body frozen in shock.

The entire room seemed to explode as they made eye contact, thrumming with meaning. Mark lost his breath at the feeling, and even Dark’s nostrils flared at the utter calamity of their encounter. 

At the Tear Stealer’s side emerged Xilef, whose black, calculated eyes absorbed the sight of Mark. He shrank under their gazes.

“Your name,” demanded the Tear Stealer, voice low and assertive, every ounce of him oozing with power. 

Mark swallowed, fists clenching on the wooden floor, his heart thrumming at the sound of his voice. “I—” His breaths came out shallow, speeding up when Dark stepped forward. His heart pounded as he realized how close he was to a High Evolved. “My n-name’s Mark,” he spluttered.

The Tear Stealer narrowed his eyes at him, red eyes gleaming with scorn. He lifted up Mark’s chin with his foot, pressing the front of his shoe against his neck. Mark choked, terrified to move, the contact sending violent bursts of shivers down his spine. 

“I could kill you right now,” said Dark, glaring down at him. “Tear you to pieces with only a  _ finger.” _

The Tear Stealer leaned forward, heel pressing against Mark’s chest and pressing the air out of his lungs. Mark swallowed painfully, jaw tight and body tense.

“But I won’t do that,” hissed Dark, resting his elbow against his knee to get closer to Mark’s face. “No, I want to have some  _ fun  _ with you first.”

Mark trembled, eyes widening. He stared up at the Tear Stealer, terrified yet lost in his eyes. Dark released his foot, and Mark gasped, falling forward and catching himself with his hands. The Tear Stealer stepped away, staring at Mark’s figure.

“Take him to a room,” ordered Dark, gazing at Emery and Lux. “Make sure he can’t escape.”

Mark shouted as Emery pulled him off the floor by his collar, growling. He glanced at Dark, eyes burning into his own. They stared, glaring and intense, until Emery dragged Mark out of the hall and shut the door.

Xilef glanced at Dark, taking in his tense frame.

“Don’t let Cibil’s visions get to your head,” said Xilef, grazing a hand over Dark’s arm. “You’ll figure out what to do.”

Dark glanced back at Xilef and huffed, bowing his head, trying to shake off the intense air that he and Mark had just shared. 

“I already know what to do,” he said, not hiding the sadistic lilt to his voice. He smirked, staring Xilef in the eye. “And I’ll have fun with every second.”


	13. CAPTIVE

Mark sat at the edge of the bed, wringing his hands together as he stared at the wall. Lux had taken all of Mark’s possessions before they locked him in the room, leaving him unable to call anyone or use his tools to make his escape.

The window had even been locked, the glass impeccable, so even breaking his way out wasn’t an option.

Mark fell onto his back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Hours had passed, only silence, and no way out.

He was trapped. Held captive with Evolveds that could kill him in a heartbeat.

Mark cursed at himself, wondering how he could be stupid, so impatient, so  _ blind. _

His thoughts whirred until sunrise filtered through the window, and his eyelids began to droop. The door slammed open, and he jumped up, body swaying from the lack of rest.

At the doorway stood Equinox, red eyes gazing through black lids and pale features. She stood tall, dress pooling gracefully down her frame.

“Human,” she hummed, sweeping her eyes over his battered frame. “Come with me.”

Mark hesitated, assessing his situation. The woman looked weak, fragile… yet the way she carried herself spoke otherwise.

“If you’re thinking of attacking me, you won’t have any luck,” she said, pulling him from his thoughts. “You’re in an entirely different world now.” Her eyes flashed. “Now come with me.”

Mark swallowed, hesitantly walking forward. Equinox leaned over and grabbed Mark’s wrist, clicking a handcuff over it. He protested, tugging, but she caught his other wrist with the cuff and secured it. Mark grimaced, pulling against the binds, but Equinox grabbed the chain and forcefully dragged him out of the room.

“You need to eat,” she said, pulling him down the hallway. Mark tripped over his feet, glaring at his situation.

_ This is nothing like I expected things to go,  _ he thought bitterly.

They turned through a few hallways, and the dining hall opened up before them. Mark swallowed, heart skipping a beat when he spotted the Tear Stealer approaching them.

“He’s all yours,” said Equinox, shoving him forward. Mark stumbled, breath catching as he caught himself right before he almost rammed into the Tear Stealer. Dark nodded his head at Equinox in thanks, and she left the room, heels clicking against the wooden floors.

Dark gazed down at Mark for a moment, taking in his frame, suppressing a smirk at his shift of discomfort. He grabbed the chain of the handcuffs and dragged Mark to one of the chairs, undoing one of the cuffs to attach it to the table.

Mark glared at the Tear Stealer, who only sent him an amused glance. His robes swished as he sat down feet away from Mark, gaze intense.

“Eat,” he ordered, directing his eyes towards the plate of fruit on the table. Mark grit his teeth together, staring at the food.

“I’m not hungry,” he decided to say, glaring at the Tear Stealer. Dark merely stared back, features unreadable. He sat back in his seat, posture impeccable. That electricity from last night thrummed to life between them.

“I’m curious, Mark,” said the Tear Stealer, voice a low drawl. “Last night, when you so failed to kill me.” He stared evenly at him, gaze never wavering. “Had my people not caught you, how would you have done it?”

Mark swallowed, fists clenching under the table. “Do what,” he hissed, shoulders tense.

“Killing me,” he said simply. He picked up a knife, its edges sharp and glinting under the morning light filtering through the windows. Dark gazed at his reflection in the blade through half-lidded eyes. “How would you have done it?”

Mark eyed the blade in his hand, breaths shallow, his skin tingling. “Why do you want to know?” he breathed, glancing between the knife and the Tear Stealer’s face.

Dark rose a brow, placing down the knife and resting his hand over it; its tip pointed towards Mark menacingly, and he swallowed thickly.

“Let me remind you,” said Dark lowly, “that you are under my roof.” His red eyes flashed. “My rules, my manor, my  _ legacy.”  _ As he spoke, he leaned forward, lifting the knife and pointing it dangerously at Mark. The blade was only a show.

Mark swallowed and leaned back, breathing in relief when Dark leaned away from him.

“Now eat and tell me how you planned to kill me.”

—

Xilef eyed Dark through the corner of his eye as they walked down the hallways.

“So?” asked Xilef, voice low. “Was Cibil right about the human?”

The Tear Stealer bristled in the slightest. “I’m not sure, yet,” said Dark. “But last night, when I laid eyes on him, and he was so close to me…” He paused. “Something in me couldn’t bring myself to kill him. There’s something about him that catches me off guard.”

“He has no idea of the future,” said Xilef. “He’s going to see everything as being held hostage.”

“Oh, definitely,” said Dark with a smirk. “Once he calms down, I’ll see how far I can bend him.”

They headed towards the second grand hall, where the Tear Stealer usually lingered and Eyes worked her magic on intercepting. The screens glowed bright despite the light of morning, and Dark and Xilef joined her side.

“I don’t get it,” said Eyes, glancing over her shoulder and glancing at the two Evolveds. “Nestor—he hasn’t been reacting in the slightest. Mark’s been gone for a day now.”

They looked at the screens, finding Ethan walking down the sidewalks and going about his day. No hint of concern on his features.

“Humans react differently to concern,” said Xilef, gazing at the screen. The Stealer only hummed.

“If you see anything suspicious, report it,” he said. “Other than that, Nestor shouldn’t be a problem anymore.”

Eyes nodded, and he walked over to the living room, sidling up to a glass cabinet in the wall.

“Cocktail?” he asked as Xilef approached. The Aurist shook his head, vaguely waving a hand.

“No thanks,” he said. “I won’t drink what gives me no benefit.”

Dark opened the cabinet and pulled out a stemmed glass, eyes sweeping over the racks on the left side. Vials upon vials lined the small shelves, filled only with a few droplets of a clear liquid. His eyes landed on the name  _ “King George VI”  _ inscribed on a vial, and he pulled it from the cabinet with a smile.

“This’ll bring back memories,” he said, closing the cabinet and turning to show Xilef the half-dollar sized vial. The Aurist sat on one of the darkened couches, his legs crossed.

“Let me guess,” hummed Xilef, putting a finger to his lip, “is it Prada’s?”

Dark shook his head. “King George the Sixth,” he said, setting down the glass and reaching for a bottle of clear tequila. He opened the bottle and poured himself a serving, setting it down as he sat on the chair in the middle.

“Secrets he had will have been unraveled by now,” said Xilef, resting his elbows on his knees as Dark popped open the vial. “You collected his tears when he first ruled.”

The Tear Stealer picked up the stemmed glass, dropping the contents of the vial into the alcohol. He smiled, gazing over his glass at Xilef.

“Oh, people hold many secrets,” he said, taking a sip of the alcohol. He licked his lips as the liquid burned down his throat, a thrum of power surging through his veins. “Even in death, they carry secrets with them.”

Xilef hummed, leaning back in his seat and draping an arm over the back of it. “Will you look into them?” he asked, eyeing the cocktail. The Tear Stealer shook his head, taking another sip.

“Not today,” he said. “I can feel them in the back of my head, but I no longer have any business with England; the secrets are useless to me.” He took a longer sip, reveling in the rush of adrenaline pulsing through him. “No, today, I’m simply in want for some power.”

Xilef nodded, and they lapsed into silence, enjoying each other’s presence.


	14. LAVENDER

Mark paced the room, mulling over ways of possible escape.

They cared about him, he noticed. Well—sort of. They made sure he ate two meals a day, got some light from the windows… Other than that, they locked him in this godforsaken room for hours on end, which constantly remained in a state of darkness.

He glanced around the room, the ebbs of sunlight giving him a bit of light to see. He rummaged through the drawers, the closet, under the bed—nothing.

Mark eyed the covers of the bed, which had been barely touched since his first day in captivity. That was four days ago, and fatigue threatened over him like a vampiric vice.

He shook his head, eyes lingering on the bed frame—black steel, rickety yet old. If he could just break a piece off… use it as a weapon… Mark mulled over the idea, running a hand through his hair.

He grimaced, dirty after the long days of no showering and constant stress.

“I bet they don’t even shower,” snapped Mark, turning away from the bed and running his hands over his face. “Fucking—ability-ass whores—”

He clenched a fist and swung it at the window with a frustrated yell, pain throbbing up his arm. The glass didn’t even waver, intact from his blow. Mark cursed and held his hand, fury flaring in his veins.

“I’m so  _ weak,”  _ he hissed at himself, reeling back and punching the window with full force. It surged back at him, and he fell back with a shout, pain thrilling in his veins. Only proving his point.

Mark rolled onto his hands and knees, bowing his head. “No wonder,” he grimaced, “why Evolveds hate us.”

He spat at the ground, almost surprised to see blood on the floor.

“I hate us, too,” he spat, cursing that he didn’t have his own set of abilities. His eyes burned, and he grimaced, trying to keep the tears back.

_ Crying in the  _ Tear  _ Stealer’s home?  _ thought Mark.  _ Not the best idea. _

He glanced over the bed, fatigue bearing down on his frame, and he clenched his jaw.

“I’m not sleeping,” he hissed, wearily making his way to his feet. “Not until I get the fuck  _ out  _ of here!”

He kicked the bed frame over, and it toppled over with a dull crash, bringing the mattress down with it. One of the drawers fell over with a thud, hopefully marking a dent in the wall. He huffed, hoping he caused enough ruckus to bring Equinox over, panting as he stared at the mess he made. Suddenly, a wave crashed through him, and a tear rolled down his face.

Mark gave a sad chuckle, unsure how to feel, his body twitching with tired anger. He cursed and hit the fallen bed frame, sinking to his knees and tugging at his hair.

“Pathetic,” he spat, bowing his head and resting it against the bed frame. “I’m so pathetic.”

He drew into himself, trying to hold back the wet dripping down his face.

The door opened, and he jumped, gazing into the candle-lit hallway with wide, wet eyes. 

_ Run for it _ —

The Tear Stealer emerged from the door, robes swaying as he gazed around the ruined room. Mark froze in his place.

“Shit—” 

Dark glanced down at him, brows raising in the slightest at the sight. Mark hastily wiped his tears away with his knuckles, smearing blood on his face. He stumbled onto his feet, head swaying from his recent outburst.

“I-I—”  _ I can explain,  _ is what he tried to stay. 

Mark thickly swallowed, cursing as another tear rolled down his face. Dark took two large strides and stood in front of Mark, gently holding the side of his face as he pressed a cold, glass vial up to his eye. Mark shuddered at the contact, wincing and trying to pull back. Only one teardrop made its way into the vial.

“W-what are you doing—”

The Tear Stealer lingered for a moment, gazing into Mark’s eyes, and stowed the vial away. They both froze like a deer in headlights as their eyes met, red and brown clashing against one another. Mark swayed in place, tempted to lean closer.

With a sigh, Dark pulled his hand away and composed himself, looking around the room. He looked back at Mark, glancing at his bloodied knuckle and frowning. Carefully, he raised his hand, examining the wounded flesh and glancing over at the window—a small smear of blood tainted its surface, and he sighed.

“Come,” he said, voice solemn and low. “You’ve blood all over your face.”

Mark swallowed, and Dark held his hand, leading him out of the room. A surge of hope rose to his throat at the sight of the hallways— _ freedom _ —but as the Tear Stealer held onto his hand, the idea of escaping pushed further back in his head, and suddenly, he… didn’t  _ want  _ to leave.

They continued on through the halls, the Tear Stealers robes lightly waving as they walked and Mark weakly following behind him, their hands still intertwined. His eyelids drooped a few times, but he continued to remind himself where he was, what was happening, and that an Evolved was in his presence.

They turned into another hallway—shorter this time—with only four doors. The Tear Stealer opened the first one on the right, and brilliance gleamed through the room. Ornate tiles lined the floor, and elegant wallpaper lined the walls. In the center, built into the floor, was a white marble bathtub.

A bathhouse.

Mark blinked, jumping when the door clicked to a shut behind them. The Tear Stealer walked let go of Mark’s hand and advanced into the room, undoing the clasp at his neck and pulling down his black shawl. 

Mark swallowed as Dark draped the textile over a chair by the tub, surprised to see him without his signature black robes. He knelt down and turned on two spigots, and hot water rushed out of the golden metal and into the large tub. The Tear Stealer glanced over his shoulder, beckoning Mark over, who tentatively obeyed.

“Strip,” he ordered, staring evenly at the human. Mark’s eyes widened as a heat flared in his cheeks, his body tensing.

“I—what?”

The Tear Stealer unbuttoned his jacket, raising a brow at Mark.

“You’re filthy,” he stated a-matter-of-factly, red eyes gleaming. “I’m going to give you a bath.”

Mark swallowed at that, the heat growing redder at his words. He cleared his throat, shifting on his feet. “Um… could you—possibly—” He glanced at the floor. “—turn around…?”

Realization dawned over Dark’s face, and he nodded, turning around as he worried at the buttons of his jacket. Mark swallowed, eyeing the Tear Stealer for a moment, and quickly removed his clothes, dropping them in a pile on the floor. He wrapped his arms around himself, self-conscious, and hastily stepped into the already-half-filled tub, wincing at the heat.

The Tear Stealer slipped off his jacket and set it over his robes, perking up at the sound. “Is it too hot?” he asked, rolling up the sleeves of his black button-up. Mark leaned against a corner of the tub, taking as little space as possible as if he were a wounded animal.

“I—a little,” he said. 

The Tear Stealer kept his eyes downcast—respecting Mark’s privacy—and turned around, leaning over to adjust the spigots. Mark swallowed at the sight of the other, never seeing so much skin from the Evolved before. The sight of him right now—so relaxed, so…  _ normal _ —made him seem almost  _ human.  _ His muscles lightly rippled beneath his silk shirt, arms strong and legs graceful, his features calm and focused. Mark turned his gaze away, keeping himself covered as the water was still clear.

Dark leaned back up, keeping his eyes away from Mark, and headed off to the far corner of the spacious room, reaching a glass cabinet and gazing into its contents. Mark watched as he mulled over his options, opening the cabinet and picking three bottles and a small box, stowing them under his arm. The Tear Stealer returned to the large tub with a small smile.

“Lavender,” he said simply. “I think that fits you.”

Mark rose a brow at that, not knowing whether to be offended or flattered, but his naked state kept him from throwing any comebacks. He watched as Dark sat down on the tiles above the bath, rolling up his pant legs to his knees and sinking his legs into the water. Mark’s heart beat in his throat at that, and he kept himself covered, leaning away from the spigot as Dark reached over to turn it off.

Dark set the bottles down, grabbing the small box and opening it to reveal a bath bomb. Mark rose a brow at it, meeting the Tear Stealer’s amiable gaze.

“To cover yourself,” he said, throwing the bath bomb into the comfortable water. It fizzed with color and thick bubbles. “And for fun.”

_ Fun,  _ thought Mark tiredly.  _ Never thought Evolveds experienced that. _

Dark used the box to scoop up some water, spreading his legs and beckoning Mark over. He hesitated, a little more comfortable now he was covered with bubbles, and rose a brow in questioning. 

“Let me wash your hair,” said the Tear Stealer, motioning at the space between his legs. Mark’s face flared with heat, and he swallowed.

_ You’ve gotta be kidding me. _

He hesitantly waded through the water, stomach coiling with butterflies as he pressed his back against the tub, Dark’s legs shielding him from both sides. His heart pounded in his throat, mind whirring, his breath stuttering when Dark gently ran a hand through Mark’s hair.

“Close your eyes,” said Dark, pouring the water over Mark’s head and running his claiming fingers through his hair. Mark subconsciously tilted his head back, shoulders relaxing.

The Tear Stealer grabbed the bottle of shampoo and pressed some onto his fingers, bringing it to a lather and massaging Mark’s head, washing his locks. Mark shuddered at the touch, leaning into it. Dark scooped another pale of water, pouring it over Mark’s head until the suds washed away.

Mark’s eyes fluttered open, blinking away droplets from his lashes. He swallowed and glanced over his shoulder, heart skipping a beat as he realized just how close they were. Dark’s red eyes gleamed down at him, his torso close to Mark’s face.

“Why are you doing this?” asked Mark softly, watching Dark squeeze some conditioner onto his hand. The Tear Stealer’s jaw twitched at the question, and Mark flexed his hands under the water, anxious for his answer.

“You’ve been here for days,” said Dark poorly, touching the side of Mark’s head. He turned his head to look straight forward again, inwardly frowning at the response. “And you need new clothes.”

Mark hummed, stomach tingling when Dark massaged the conditioner into his locks. He shakily breathed out, bringing a knee up to his chest and gripping it with weak fingers.

“Are you going to kill me?” asked Mark, trying to separate himself from the delectable sensations. He swallowed, involuntary arching his back in the slightest when Dark’s fingers pressed against the nape of his neck.

“No,” answered the Tear Stealer, eyes glinting as he examined Mark’s reactions. He ran a hand down Mark’s neck, lightly massaging his tense muscles. Mark tilted his head back, lightly biting his lip. “But I’m not letting you leave.”

Dark pulled his hands away, and Mark opened his eyes, humming in his throat. He gazed ahead at the door they entered through, mind blank.

“I figured,” said Mark softly. “I don’t mind that much, though. I’ll miss home, and my friends, and…”

_ And killing,  _ he almost said, quickly stopping himself.

“And?”

Mark swallowed, turning around and facing Dark, looking up at him.

“I have no use to you,” said Mark quietly, throat tight. “I’m just a human.” His brows furrowed. “What’s the point of keeping me alive?”

The Tear Stealer stared down at him and swallowed, jaw twitching.

_ Cibil’s visions,  _ thought Dark, but there was no way he could explain something like that—especially to a human. Instead, he found himself leaning down, hands sliding up the sides of Mark’s jaw. Mark shuddered, his breaths stuttering, their gazes locked onto one another. Electricity sparked between them, and Mark leaned in, too, his stomach coiling with butterflies.

“I—I don’t even know your name,” he whispered, shuddering as Dark caressed his cheek with his thumb. Dark tilted his head, and Mark gasped as their lips brushed.

“It’s Dark,” he breathed, breath hot over Mark’s face. “Dark Edwards.”

Mark faintly nodded, breaths shuddering 

and shallow, and Dark closed the distance between them, hands claiming and large on Mark’s face. Mark gasped, body reacting in a way that shocked him, hands reaching up to hesitantly rest on Dark’s.

Dark licked at his bottom lip, and Mark opened his mouth eagerly, brows furrowing at how pliant his body reacted. Something about the Tear Stealer made him so relaxed—eager for what was to come;  _ unafraid  _ of what was to come.

Mark softly moaned into Dark’s mouth, heart racing and arousal flaring through his body. Dark ran his hand up into Mark’s conditioned locks, faintly tugging, earning a groan. 

Mark leaned forward, his body eager for more, but Dark pulled away, the both of them panting. Mark’s eyes fluttered open, his mind surprised despite the fog of lust shrouding his thoughts. They stared at each other for what seemed like hours, pleased shock in their eyes. Dark was the first to pull out of his trance. 

“Let’s finish cleaning you up,” he said softly, still dazed from he’d just done. Mark blinked and nodded, swallowing thickly. 

“I can—wash my body myself,” he said quietly, face red. Dark nodded, handing him the bottle of body wash. 

“I’ll get you a towel and a fresh set of clothes,” said the Tear Stealer, lifting his feet from the water and heading over to a second glass cabinet. Mark lingered, still dreamy, his fingers hovering over his lips. 

_ I just kissed the Tear Stealer,  _ he thought. 


	15. PRYING

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not updating last week! I hope you enjoy today's chapter :)
> 
> <3<3

Ten minutes later, Mark got out of the tub and dried himself off, dressing in the clothes that the Tear Stealer provided him. Mark tugged at the material, smelling of lush lavender. 

Dark turned around when he cleared his throat, eyes glimmering at the sight of the human. The satin, black night clothes gently hugged his frame, and he allowed a small smile. 

“Wonderful,” said Dark softly, reaching over for his own garbs and clasping the black robes over his shoulders. “Those are yours.”

Mark ran his hand down the soft material, smiling. “Thank you.”

The Tear Stealer nodded, beckoning him to follow. They left the bath house, heading down the hallways. Mark gazed at every crevice and doorway, burning the images into his head. 

Dark chuckled, noticing the human’s focused features. “If you're trying to memorize these halls,” he said, “there’s no point.”

He gazed down at Mark, whose eyes gleamed with surprise and confusion. 

“The house changes,” he said. “It moves the hallways as it sees fit.” Mark’s brows furrowed, and Dark continued. 

“We’ve grown an attachment to our rooms,” he tried to explain. “Like a signature. That’s how we know where to go.”

“You guys don’t get lost?”

“Only new Evolveds who join us do,” he said. Mark rose a brow at that. “Once they get adjusted, they know the way around.”

“What do you mean by that?”

The Tear Stealer blinked for a moment, shocked that he didn’t know.

_ Right,  _ he told himself.  _ Humans don’t know a thing of our endeavors.  _

“We can talk about it another time,” he said simply.

Mark frowned at that but said nothing more, and they slowed down, reaching his dreadful room. His chest sank as Dark opened the door, accepting that he’d be prisoner here for as long as they saw fit.

The Tear Stealer glanced into the room and frowned, remembering the state that Mark left it in. He glanced over at the human, lingering in thought, and closed the door. 

“Come,” he said, and they continued down the hallways. Mark’s brows furrowed, and after a while, they halted at another short hallway. Three doors echoed at them—two on the sides, and one in the very middle.

Dark walked forward and opened the door in the middle, revealing a dimly-lit room—enormous and ornate. It was infinitely more spacious than Mark’s previous room.

“You can sleep in my room tonight,” said the Tear Stealer, leading him into the bedroom. Mark blinked, surprised.

“Your—this is your room?”

He glanced around, noting the comfortable king-sized bed accented with navy blue sheets and pillows. In the corner, lit brighter than the rest of the room, stood a large desk littered with papers and pictures. The Tear Stealer walked over to the side of the bed and pulled back the covers, glancing up at Mark.

_ Are we…? _

“I’ll sleep somewhere else,” he said, answering Mark’s unspoken question. He exhaled in relief, earning a smirk. “Unless you want to sleep together.”

“Oh, I—” Mark’s cheeks flared with heat, and Dark chuckled, shaking his head.

“I’m kidding,” he said, approaching Mark. He grazed a hand up the human’s arm, leaning down to whisper in his ear. “That doesn’t mean you can escape, though.” Mark tensed, swallowing, and Dark’s lips brushed against his ear. 

“One of my people is connected to this house,” he said, voice low. “Any movement you make—so much as a touch to the doorknob or a hand on the window—will be picked up on.” His red eyes gleamed. “And I will find out any attempt you make trying to break out.”

He leaned away, and Mark shifted in place. 

“Good night, Mark,” said the Tear Stealer with a sadistic smile, and Mark hastily nodded.

“You too,” he mumbled.

Dark dropped his hand from Mark’s arm and walked past him, glancing back at him before leaving and shutting the door with a firm click. Mark stood there for a minute, still stunned from the day’s events, a sense of quiet pooling through him. He glanced back at the door for a moment, careful to keep his hands in his pockets.

_ This place is out of my league. _

His eyes trailed over to the Tear Stealer’s desk, its surface illuminated by a bright lantern. Glancing back at the door once more, he approached the desk, gazing at the dense array of papers. Sketches, articles, pictures… 

Mark sat down, leafing through the papers and entertaining his bored mind. He glanced at the drawer on the right of the desk, a thrill of excitement pulsing in his heart. He licked his lips, glancing at the door, and opened the drawer, finding a black notebook. Quietly, he picked up the journal, flipping through the pages and reading every word and elegant scrawl of the Tear Stealer’s words.

Information of powerful leaders bled from the pages, names, dates, and locations. Mark shifted in his seat, captivated by the words that felt like classified information. There were also paltry sketches of notable places like the Eiffel Tower or the Statue of Liberty. Other sketches included streets and shops—all in different languages.

Mark knew that the Tear Stealer was known throughout the world, but he had no idea the travels he’d really done. He smiled as he continued reading, skipping over the disturbing parts. It was like looking into Dark’s mind and thought process—it felt as if he knew him more, now that he read through everything.

Mark landed on the most recent page, staring at it. A list of names stained the page, the ink thicker and pressed down forcefully. He rose a brow, reading over it. Xilef, Raine, Eyes, Lux, Emery, Equinox, Voxe… there were seven other names, but his eyes focused on the bottom words:

_ Antinstine—one month. One of them. _

Mark blinked in confusion, noting that some of the names were crossed out. None of them were circled, though a few words were scribbled out—most likely in frustration. His brows furrowed.

“What’s he have to do with Antinstine?” he muttered.

On the very bottom of the page stood the words  _ ‘the human?’  _ and he swallowed.

_ Could that mean me?  _ he thought. He shook his head and stowed away the notebook, closing the drawer.  _ I hope not. _

He returned his attention to the papers atop the desk, leafing through them at random. Photos of a man showed in practically every single paper—blue and green eyes gleaming from the ink. Mark rose a brow, flipping one of the photos over and reading the letters on the back:  _ Antinstine. _

There was his name again. Mark swallowed, turning the photo back up to gaze into those gleaming eyes filled with hatred.

_ That’s him? _

Antinstine’s name was rarely spoken of in human media; the mere mention of him sent reporters quivering. Many rumored that even talking about him would get you killed, and some were proven a few times, warning people to fear him and keep him out of any coverage.

Mark picked up another photo, staring at a different shot of Antinstine. Hate still glimmered in his multi-colored eyes, though his features were more composed.

He set down the photos, swallowing.

_ I hope I never have to meet him,  _ he thought, standing to explore the other facets of the room. He opened the drawer beside Dark’s bed, which revealed a glass case of vials. Mark leaned down and picked one of them up, squinting at it through the lighting. Wrapped around it in parchment said the name  _ Wither. _

Mark tilted the vial, and two drops of a clear liquid slid in the glass. He rose a brow and put it back, picking up another one.

_ Roosevelt. _

Mark’s eyes widened, and he picked up another vial, chest tightening. Realization dawned on him as the names echoed through his head, and he set down the vials and shut the drawer.

_ These were people’s tears. _

—

Meanwhile, in the living room, Dark sat on one of the couches on his lonesome, legs crossed and cocktail in hand.

He stared at the unlabeled vial in his fingers, tilting it with a face of disinterest. 

“Let’s see who you really are, Mark,” he breathed, setting the empty vial down and gazing at the cocktail. Carefully, he lifted it to his lips, tilting his head back and sipping the alcohol. The contents burned down his throat, and a small surge of power fluttered in his veins.

He closed his eyes, resting his head on the back of the chair as vague, foreign memories flashed before his eyes.

Pleasure sang in his veins—excitement, adrenaline, fear and power—and an alleyway stretched before him, the sky dark. Dark let the memory play through his mind, watching idly, staring through Mark’s eyes.

Blood coated his hands, and a body lay at his feet, mangled and bleeding out. Another burst of fear pounded through his skull, but as he knelt by the body, satisfaction numbed all other emotion.

Another flash, and another body. Daylight streaked the sky this time, and he glanced down at his hands. The blood was brighter in the light—red and stark against his flesh. 

Four dead bodies later, and the fear he felt began to ebb away, replaced with pleasure. Six later, and he began to kneel down to collect pieces of the corpses, stowing them away in his pockets.

Suddenly, he sat in front of a laptop, staring at an article. 

_ “CELEBRITY KILLER: Vincent Vita killed by Strangulation.” _

More bodies flashed before his eyes, and with each kill, he pulled out a growing piece of jewelry—a necklace made out of trophies from every victim. Twenty victims later—all celebrities, all killed brutally—and he sat in front of the laptop again, looking at articles concerning him and other Evolveds. He reached the end of one of the articles, eyes focusing on a paragraph. This was quite the sharp memory:

_ ‘Speculation suggests that the Celebrity Killer could be an Evolved…’  _ His eyes continued down the page.  _ ‘...could he be working with the feared Antinstine?’ _

The memories cut off, and Dark opened his eyes, exhaling softly. Awe glittered in his eyes.

“The Celebrity Killer,” he whispered, setting down the cocktail, deep in thought. A smirk graced his lips, and he stared ahead, ideas mulling through his head. “I’m impressed.”

He picked up his cocktail again and shook his head, teeth gleaming through his smile. With that, he took another sip, letting the memories play through his head again as an idea formed in his head.


	16. CELEBRITY KILLER

Sunlight filtered through the window, and Mark groaned, stirring in bed. He felt the sheets beneath him, wondering why they were so soft, and opened his eyes, jolting as he saw his surroundings. He glanced around, blinking, remembering that he spent the night in the Tear Stealer’s room.

He glanced at the drawer beside him, stomach getting queasy at the sight. Subconsciously, he pressed a finger to the corner of his eye. 

_ He took one of my tears. _

Mark had no idea what the Tear Stealer did with the vials, nor had he any idea what benefit they had on him, and that was the scary part.

Not knowing.

He clambered out of bed, lazily making the bed, and caught sight of a pile of clothes on the edge of the bed—each article a smooth burgundy. Mark rose a brow and lifted one of the pieces, stretching it out before him. It was a burgundy, long-sleeve turtleneck.

A paper fluttered down to the ground, and he set down the shirt, kneeling down to pick it up. Familiar, elegant black scrawl peered up at him—Dark’s writing.

_ ‘Find the dining hall,’  _ it said.

Mark scoffed and smiled, running his fingers along the clothes he’d been provided. Minutes later, he got himself dressed, setting his night clothes aside and staring at himself in the by the closet. His cheeks flared with heat, and he tugged at his turtleneck.

“Awfully fancy,” he said, eyeing the all-burgundy suit and shifting in place. He stowed the note in his pocket, keeping his jacket unbuttoned.

_ Find the dining hall,  _ he repeated in his head, giving one last glance at the room before leaving.  _ Looks like he’s putting more trust in me. _

He closed the door, pleased to see the two other doors—still in the same position as last night. Trying to remember the way, he turned right, blinking at a hallway adorned with paintings.

“Haven’t seen that before,” he mumbled.

He turned around, gazing down the other hallway and scratching the back of his neck.

_ Oh, how funny,  _ he thought bitterly.  _ He thinks I can’t find my way. _

Mark narrowed his eyes, determined, and went down the hallway on the left, passing a few doors and separate hallways. He turned into an opening, and a room opened up before him, sloping and grand and  _ enormous.  _ Stained-glass windows made up an entire wall, curving from the floor to the ceiling. He blinked at it all, mind whirring at the mere beauty of it, allowing himself to forget about breakfast to take everything in. 

A staircase sloped up and into shadows away from the sunlight, and Mark hummed, heading towards it. As he walked up a few steps, he bumped into an invisible barrier like he had the night he snuck in, frowning. He took a step again, ramming into the barrier.

_ Right,  _ said Mark, remembering the Tear Stealer’s words from last night.  _ There’s someone connected to this house.  _ And they know his every move.

He grumbled and went down the stairs, turning around to venture down the hallways again.  _ Looks like I can’t escape at all, then. _

Mark walked through more hallways, lingering whenever there were paintings on the walls. People he didn’t even recognize stared off through acrylic gazes, all serious and regal. Through his confusing, maze-like walk, he noticed that he hadn’t seen any paintings of the Evolveds who lived here.

He passed through another hallway, meeting the four sets of doors, and perked up. He headed towards the first one on the right and opened it, inwardly cheering as he saw the bathhouse.

_ The rooms stay together,  _ he noted, scratching his chin in thought. 

He continued down the hallways and sighed, reaching another wall of windows. Despite his revelation, he had no luck, inwardly frowning.

“I give up,” he muttered. 

He eyed the windows, gazing out at the forestry, an idea forming in his head.

_ They know my every move. _

He knocked on the window rather forcefully, waiting for someone to burst out of their door to capture him. Mark waited, tapping his foot, and smiled. He glanced down both sides of the halls, turned towards the window, and reeled back his fist. A hand gripped his wrist inches before his knuckles met the glass.

Mark startled, whirling around and face flaring with heat as Dark pinned him into the windows, eyebrow raised. He swallowed, stomach coiling at their closeness, then burst into a fit of laughter, pulling his hand from the Tear Stealer’s grip.

“Did you really expect me to find my way?” he laughed, and Dark’s brow arched higher. “It would’ve been night by the time I found the dining hall.”

Dark lingered, staring Mark sternly in the eye, and after a moment, his eyes glimmered with amused awe. He pulled back, and Mark breathed out, leaning against the windows.

“You learned how to—”

Mark smiled, stepping aside. “You told me about it last night,” he said. “Can you lead me to the dining hall now?”

The Tear Stealer lingered, eyeing Mark.  _ He’s smarter than I thought. _

“Follow me,” he said, leading Mark down one of the halls. They walked next to each other, and Dark examined him from the corner of his eye.

“You look nice,” said Dark, stomach tingling when Mark’s brown eyes glanced up at him. “The clothes fit you.”

“They’re a bit fancy,” said Mark, face a light red.

With a few more turns, the dining hall finally opened before them, and an Evolved came into view, raising their hackles at the sight of them.

“He tried escaping?” ze asked, and Dark shook his head, leading Mark further into the room.

“No, Voxe,” he said, and Mark stared at zem, remembering the name from Dark’s journal. “He actually did that so we’d come and fetch him.”

Voxe rose a brow, still hostile and tense, but a smirk grew on zir lips. “Smart,” ze said. “I like it.”

“She’s connected to…?”

“The house, yes,” said the Tear Stealer, leading him towards the center of the room. He gazed ahead, red eyes flashing towards the far ends of the dining hall.

“Since you’ll be here for a while,” he said, leaning down by Mark’s ear, “I thought I’d introduce you to some of the house’s main members.”

A sigh shifted in the shadows, and a woman in medieval goth appeared.

“Well, he already knows me,” said Equinox, stepping out of the shadows and glaring at the sunlight filtering through the grandiose windows. Mark swallowed, chest tightening. “It’s Equinox.”

Mark glanced over at Dark, itching to run away—his fight or flight thrumming—but the Tear Stealer placed a stilling hand on his shoulder. Five more Evolveds walked up to them, staring evenly at Mark with intense gazes. Mark’s eyes were instantly drawn to pure black eyes, and Dark noticed the gaze with a smirk.

“That’s Xilef,” he said, nodding at his respected friend. “The Aurist.”

Xilef continued staring at Mark through black eyes, his demeanor claiming absolute authority—practically matching that of Dark’s. He crossed his arms, gaze unwavering from Mark’s person, constantly taking in his shifting aura. Behind him, Voxe joined the crowding of Evolveds, eyes alight.

Dark motioned towards a crestfallen woman, whose pale grey hair was slicked back to show the hollows and junctures of her face.

“This is Raine; our newest member.” She stared straight at Mark, and he swallowed, eager to look at the next person—the shortest of the group. “And Eyes.”

She adjusted her glasses, and Mark awkwardly nodded his head, muscles tensing when his eyes landed on Lux and Emery—the two that captured him the night he snuck in. He swallowed.

_ To think I tried killing the Tear Stealer,  _ he thought.  _ And now I’m standing right next to him. _

The Tear Stealer smiled, hand tightening over Mark’s shoulder.

“You know these two quite well,” said Dark, a playful lilt to his voice. “This is Lux.”

They glared at Mark, white-blonde hair framing their snarl. Mark swallowed and sheepishly smiled, jaw set tight.

“And this is Emery—Voxe’s brother. He’s the barricade you ran into when you snuck in.”

Mark swallowed and nodded, staying fixed in his place. He startled when Dark placed both hands on his shoulders, fingers digging into the burgundy jacket.

“Now, Mark, everyone here knows your name already,” he said, voice low and drawling, “but they don’t know who you  _ really  _ are.”

Mark tensed at that, something hidden in the Tear Stealer’s words. He glanced over at Dark, whose red eyes flashed down at him.

“In my  _ hands,” _ breathed Dark, smirking down at Mark, “is the Celebrity Killer.”

Mark’s breath hitched, and he tried stepping away, heart skipping when everyone snapped their attention towards his every movement.

“I—” He laughed, wincing in the Tear Stealer’s hold. “I don’t know what you’re talking about—”

_ “Him?”  _ snarled Emery, stepping forward. “I thought it was an Evolved on Antinstine’s side!  _ Hell,  _ maybe even a rogue, but this  _ human?” _

“I agree,” said Equinox with distaste. “A human who kills their own kind? Quite sad.”

Mark swallowed, trying to back away from them, but Dark held him firmly in place. His brows furrowed, and his chest flared with heat.

“It’s not like  _ you  _ guys don’t kill your own kind,” blurted Mark, and Emery bristled, baring his teeth.

“How  _ dare _ —”

“Ah, ah, ah,” said Dark, steering Mark away from Emery’s line of fire and pushing him down into a chair. “He doesn’t know what he’s saying, Emery. He has no idea of our sides.”

_ Sides?  _ thought Mark bitterly, pressing himself into the chair and glaring at the hostile Evolved.  _ What  _ sides _? _

The Tear Stealer placed a hand on the top of the chair, gazing at his people.

“Mark,” he said, “is, in fact, a hope for us.”

The Evolveds bristled at that, and Xilef joined Dark’s side, composure regal and calm.

“Two weeks ago,” he continued, “I spoke with an Evolved on the Other Side. A foreseer.” His red eyes glimmered. “However, in exchange for some of her insight, I was to give something in return.”

He glanced at Xilef, who returned the gaze through the corner of his eye. 

“Though I loathe the exchange,” said Dark, his voice drawn back in the slightest, “I have no other choice.”

Mark swallowed, watching with unease, and the other Evolveds shifted in waiting. Dark rose his chin, red eyes gleaming as he said the next words through the silence in the hall.

“Antinstine wants one of you to join him.”

They answered with absolute shock, glancing at each other. Voxe and Xilef were the only ones who kept their composure.

“We… we can’t do that,” said Raine. “For all we know, he could  _ kill  _ us, sir.”

Voxe stepped forward, eyes flashing and sombre. 

“How much time do you have?” ze breathed. Everyone glanced from Voxe to the Tear Stealer, bodies tense.

Dark stared evenly at them. “Four weeks,” he said.  _ “However…” _

He glanced down at Mark, eyes going darker, bringing him back up to his feet. Mark reluctantly stood beside the Tear Stealer, dread pooling in his stomach.

_ Something doesn’t feel right,  _ he thought.

Dark placed a hand on Mark’s shoulder, the weight bearing down and dangerous. 

“It’s exactly as you said, Emery,” he continued, eyes sweeping over the Evolveds. “People think that the Celebrity Killer is an Evolved… that his strength and keen eye for staying hidden—for all these  _ years _ —is one of his abilities.”

Mark swallowed, heart racing, unable to speak.

“That’s why,” breathed Dark, and bile rose to Mark’s throat, “instead of sending one of you over to Antinstine’s city—” His fingers tightened in Mark’s shoulder, and his stomach twisted with absolute dread. “I will be sending Mark.”

His breath stole from his lungs, and his head spun, all eyes meeting him. He vaguely shook his head, feet wavering, yet Dark kept him firm and steady on the ground.

“And he will kill Antinstine.”


	17. HUMAN ERROR

Mark numbly entered his newly-cleaned room and lingered in its center, staring through the single window in the darkness. Behind him, the Tear Stealer lingered, black robes fluttering at his feet.

“So, I…” Mark’s brows furrowed, his fists clenching as he swallowed harshly. “So I have no say in this?”

He turned around, meeting red eyes, and Dark sighed, closing the door behind them with a faint click. The room became a few degrees dimmer without the lights in the hallways, casting shadows across their faces.

“No,” Dark said firmly. “You don’t.”

He stared evenly at Mark, red eyes gleaming in the darkness, and the human searched for words, hands flailing and mouth bobbing for an answer.

“Y-you want me to kill _Antinstine,”_ said Mark, staring heatedly at the Tear Stealer. “One of the most _feared_ Evolveds in America. _”_ His chest tightened, and he threw his hands in the air, desperation in his eyes. “I—I can’t even fight _you guys,_ so how am I supposed to kill the _strongest_ Evolved—”

Dark stepped forward, and Mark drew back, swallowing thickly. A domineering aura bled through the Tear Stealer, his robes practically bristling with him.

“When it comes to my  _ family,” _ said Dark, voice low and growling, “I will do anything— _ anything _ —to keep them safe.” He rose to his full height, towering over Mark. “And if it means sending you to the Other Side, I will not  _ hesitate  _ to go through with it.”

Mark shuddered, breaths shallow. “Just because I’m a human doesn’t mean you can  _ throw  _ me out like  _ trash,”  _ he spat, voice shaking. “Y-you can’t just— _ use  _ me to your own benefit! If you made a deal, then you have to go  _ through  _ with it—!”

“Bullshit,” yelled Dark, and Mark flinched, breaths uneven. “You know  _ nothing _ —”

“How am I  _ supposed  _ to know anything?” he shouted, throwing his arms in the air. Dark leaned away from the outburst. “I’m a goddamn  _ human _ —not an Evolved like you! How am I supposed to learn how you guys work, o-or know what  _ abilities  _ you have, or what  _ sides  _ you’re on—when there’s been  _ nothing  _ out there for me to learn from? You give us  _ nothing _ —absolutely  _ nothing!  _ You hide in the shadows, prey on us,  _ kill  _ us—”

“That’s not  _ us— _ ”

“Then _clarify_ it!” cried Mark. “How the _hell_ are we supposed to know a _thing_ when you don’t _tell us_ anything?! You can’t just assume that humans know all about Evolveds!” He huffed, scoffing and glancing aside with a fiery gaze. “For all I know,” he hissed, “ _Antinstine_ could be the good g—”

“Don’t even start—”

“Then  _ explain,”  _ Mark ordered. His shoulders heaved, breaths heavy. The Tear Stealer drew back, jaw set tight, and Mark’s lip quivered, voice faltering. “Explain  _ everything.”  _ He thickly swallowed, shaking his head and forcing back the tears. “To me.” He shakily exhaled. “Please.”

Dark lingered, flexing his fingers for a moment, then sighed. He ran a hand through his hair, turning to face the door—away from Mark’s dejected, heated gaze.

“Antinstine and I,” he said quietly, pressing his hand against the door, “have very different… values.” He dropped his hand, listening to Mark’s shaky breaths through the quiet of the lightless room.

“While I strive for peace among Evolveds, he wishes to obtain absolute power over them. Kill humans so that we’d run the world.” Dark scoffed with a shake of his head.  _ “‘No weak man standing,’  _ as he says.”

He turned around, gazing steadily at Mark, who swallowed.

“Then why are you sending me there—a human?” whispered Mark. “He’ll kill me.”

Dark shook his head, leaning against the door. “The others said the same thing,” he muttered. “But if Anti really did try to kill you…” His eyes glimmered. “Well, he wouldn’t dare… he’d start a war, after all.”

Mark rested against the windowsill, hands gripping its edges.

“And how am I going to kill him?” said Mark, staring at the Tear Stealer, dread tightening in his throat. “I don’t have any abilities.”

Dark’s red eyes glimmered, his face stoic and drawn back. “We have four weeks,” he said softly, yet his voice was still firm. “That gives us enough time to plan and for us to… educate you, so to speak.”

Mark thickly swallowed, accepting his fate. He leaned forward, gaze unwavering from the Tear Stealer’s red eyes. “How can you even trust me?” he tested, eyeing Dark’s unreadable features. “I tried to kill you.”

Cibil’s name rang in Dark’s head again, and he lingered, mulling over an answer. He carefully inhaled. “Mark,” he breathed, “when I spoke with the foreseer… she—”

He stopped himself, unable to bring himself to say it. Mark shook his head, waiting for him to continue.

“She what?”

“I have to go,” said the Tear Stealer, opening the door. “We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

Mark jumped to his feet, stepping forward. “Wait, what—?”

Dark halted as he closed the door, lingering, then glanced over his shoulder. They met eyes again, that electricity thrumming in the air, and he said quietly:

“I trust you.”

Mark blinked, brows furrowed in confusion, and the door shut before he could say another word. He reached for the door and tugged on the handle, surprised to feel it fling open, and jumped out into the hallway.

“Dark—!”

He glanced down the halls, left, right, straight ahead, but he was gone, no robes in sight. Mark cursed, stamping his foot on the ground and slamming the door shut.

“What did I get myself into,” he hissed, tugging at his hair. He shook his head, chest tightening. “God, why am I such an idiot?”

—

Xilef met Dark’s eyes calmly as he entered his room, hands folded at his lips. His legs were crossed beneath his desk, black voids for eyes glimmering.

“So?” asked Xilef, voice low and quiet. “Are you sure about this?”

“Four weeks,” breathed Dark with a nod, sitting at the edge of Xilef’s bed. “We have enough time.”

“But can he mimic our manners? Our speech?” He motioned his hands. “The way we carry ourselves?”

“He’s confident in his killing,” said Dark, unclipping his robes and settling them onto the bed. Xilef’s eyes lazily followed the black fabric. “We’ll work around that.” He gazed down at the ground and sighed, his fingers tightening in the sheets. 

“It’s going to work,” he said softly.

“Is it because of Cibil?” asked the Aurist, standing from his seat and joining Dark’s side, the weight shifting on the bed. When he didn’t receive an answer, he tilted Dark’s chin up with a delicate finger, staring him in the eye. “She showed you more than what would happen… didn’t she.”

Dark nodded. “Only glimpses,” he whispered. “But she… she isn’t on anyone’s side.” He faltered in Xilef’s touch. “That’s what makes it so unnerving.”

Xilef processed his words, eyes running over the lines in the other’s face. “We still have to be careful,” he said. “She could have given you  _ just  _ enough as a ploy.” 

“Antinstine will die,” said the Tear Stealer firmly, though his voice was a mere whisper in the room. “Though it’s not entirely clear whether  _ Mark _ will be his end or not.”

“Dwelling on the future is stressful for the mind,” said Xilef as he leaned closer, breath fanning over Dark’s face. “You need to distress.”

Xilef leaned in, lips brushing against Dark’s, but he pulled away, gently pushing Xilef’s hand down.

“No,” said Dark softly. “Not this—” He motioned to the space between them. “Anymore.”

Xilef’s eyes glimmered, and he frowned in the slightest, disappointed with the response. “You aren’t with Mark, yet,” he tried reasoning, but Dark carefully stood and picked up his robes, draping them over his arm.

“Perhaps another time,” Dark said, bowing his head in the slightest. “I’ll retire to my rooms, now.” He gazed at Xilef, their eyes locking, and turned away. “Good night, Xilef.”

“Night,” he replied, watching the Tear Stealer leave his quarters to his own room. His eyes glimmered with distaste, and he clenched his jaw, resentment brewing towards Mark. He scoffed, glancing aside with furrowed brows.

“Cursed human,” he spat.


	18. LESSONS

Mark startled to the sound of pounding, shooting up from his bed as Equinox slammed the door open.

“Wake up,” she ordered, and Mark grimaced, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I didn’t fall asleep to begin with,” he grumbled, swinging his feet over the bed. He stood up, and Equinox rushed over to him, knocking her leg through his knees.

Mark yelped, falling forwards on his hands and knees, quickly stumbling to his feet.

“What the hell?” he demanded.

“Lesson one,” said Equinox, moving to trip him again—Mark flinched. “Always be aware of your surroundings.”

Mark stumbled to his feet, dusting himself off with a look of distaste. Equinox only stared back, a smirk playing the edges of her lips.

“Get dressed,” she said. “It’s time for breakfast.”

She walked out the room and closed the door, leaving Mark tired and perplexed. He blinked, shaking his head, and obeyed her orders.

“How did I end up in this mess,” he breathed, dressing himself and heading out the door. He gave an audible sigh as he faced the looming hallways, which had shifted in the night.

“Voxe, I swear,” cursed Mark, pinching the bridge of his nose. “If you shift this house just for  _ fun _ —”

“Not always,” a voice said, and Mark whirled around with a shout.

_ “Jesus,”  _ he huffed, meeting Voxe’s slender figure gazing down at him. Ze grinned, beckoning Mark to follow with a finger and heading down a hallway.

“I thought I’d drop by to let you calm down from Equinox’s wake-up call,” ze said, zir hands moving gracefully as ze talked. “But I’d also like to teach you about the house.”

“What’s the point?” grumbled Mark. “I’m leaving this place, anyway.”

Voxe ignored his comment, and they stopped in a grand hall—the same one that Mark lingered at the day before. Stained-glass windows made up an entire floor, curving from the floor to the ceiling. This time, he could take in the beauty, all of the room’s ornate, dark jewels glimmering down at him. His mind whirred, and Voxe led him up the sloping, shadow-basked staircase. No barrier kept them from going higher, but they stopped halfway.

“The house was enchanted before we moved in,” said Voxe, lifting zir hand, zir movements flowing like water. “As Evolveds, we still live by the properties of nature. However…”

Voxe lifted zir hand higher and gently moved zir wrist. Mark’s eyes widened, unable to process what happened before him.

Through the grand openings, the hallways shifted and turned—like he were looking into turning cogs. Shadows shifted across the floor of the grand room, and Voxe dropped zir hand, smirking over at Mark.

“One rule of the house,” said Voxe, “is that the main rooms never change.” Ze walked down the stairs, and Mark followed, still stunned. “This ballroom, the dining hall, the living room, the great halls… they all stay in the same place.”

“Then why move the hallways?” asked Mark, brows furrowed. They headed down the newly-shifted hallways, and Mark glanced at his surroundings, the walls speaking of age.

“High Evolveds like us must always be cautious,” said Voxe. “Moving the house confuses intruders.” Ze glanced down at Mark. “We had an attack a few years ago—my abilities helped give us enough time to dispose of the enemy.”

“Was it Antinstine?” asked Mark.

Voxe rose a brow down at him, and zir eyes glimmered. “Right. You don’t know the whole story.” Mark waited for zem to continue, but ze brushed off the comment. “But no, it wasn’t Antinstine. A group of rogues.”

“Will I ever know the whole story?”

Voxe ignored him, the both of them continuing down the hallway, and Mark grit his teeth.

“For you to identify the house,” said Voxe, “you must memorize the locations of the main rooms.”

“That’s impossible,” scoffed Mark. “I’m human, I don’t know the— _ signatures _ —or whatever.”

“It’s more difficult,” Voxe agreed. “But you can learn. Here—”

They stopped, and Voxe touched the wall, motioning for him to do the same. Mark rose a brow, and Voxe reached over to place Mark’s hand on the wall.

“Do you feel it?” breathed Voxe.

Mark’s brows furrowed, and he pressed his palm into the wall, fingers shifting over the gentle wallpaper.

“Feel… what?”

“Evolveds are still humans,” said Voxe. “We can tap into the same magic.” Ze motioned towards Mark’s hand. “Try harder.”

“But what am I looking for?”

Voxe only stared at him, and Mark huffed, focusing on his hand. 

“Try closing your eyes.”

Mark obeyed, eyes slipping closed. He was vaguely aware of Voxe’s presence at his side, still uneasy around Evolveds, but poured his attention into the wall. A line of blue pulsed before his eyes, and his eyes snapped open.

“Don’t pull away,” said Voxe, laying zir hand on top of Mark’s to keep it down. “Feel.”

Mark swallowed, and a faint pressure pulsed through the wall. Like a heartbeat—steady yet faint.

“I—I think I feel it.”

“Good,” said Voxe. “When you closed your eyes—what did you see?”

“A blue line?”

Voxe smiled, tilting zir head with a gleam in zir eyes. “Perfect,” ze said. “The lines show you where to go.”

Mark’s brows furrowed. “If I can do this, why didn’t the enemies?”

“Well, one—they didn’t know how to tap into the house,” said Voxe, leaning forward. “But they also weren’t one with the house.”

“And I am?”

“Oddly… yes,” said Voxe, straightening zemself. “I’m surprised you caught on so fast.”

_ Maybe it’s because of the foreseer Dark was talking about, _ thought Mark. He brushed aside the thought, focusing on the present.

“So the line,” said Mark. “Does that lead to the dining hall?”

A knowing smirk played on Voxe’s lips, and ze chuckled. “Well,” ze said. “Not quite.” Zir eyes glimmered with amusement. “It looks like you’ve got a certain someone on your mind instead.”

Mark rose a brow, perplexed, but Voxe didn’t give any further explanation. Ze motioned to the wall again.

“Think about the dining hall,” said Voxe, and Mark put his hand on the wall. “If you think about  _ Edwards _ again, it will continue to lead you to his room.”

Mark blinked, his cheeks flaring with heat.  _ I was… thinking about _ — _? _

He nervously chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, but Voxe only pressed on his hand with an amused look.

“Focus,” ze snickered.

Mark nodded, closing his eyes, and thought of the dining hall. After a few seconds, that blue light pulsed before his eyes—a pattern similar to the number four. He glanced over at Voxe, who only smiled.

“Lead the way,” ze said.

Mark inwardly groaned, but he obeyed, remembering the pattern in his head and following it.  _ Walk down, left turn, straight, right turn, straight…  _

Up ahead, on the left side, was the grand opening to the dining hall. Excitement thrummed in Mark’s chest, and Voxe clapped him on the back with a cheered shout.

“Excellent job!” exclaimed Voxe with a laugh. “It’s like you belong here.”

Mark chuckled, something chilling about those words. He glanced around the dining hall, meeting eyes with Dark.

“How did he do?” asked the Tear Stealer, black robes fluttering at his feet. Mark swallowed, forcing himself to think straight.

“He’s more inclined than I thought,” said Voxe with a hum. “Cibil told you well.”

Dark’s eyes glimmered at that, and he waved a hand at Voxe in dismissal. “I’ll take over from here,” he said, and Voxe bowed zir head, glancing once more at Mark before exiting the dining hall, leaving Mark and Dark to their lonesome. 

“Voxe said it was like I—belong here,” said Mark quietly as Dark led him further into the room, pulling back a chair for the human to sit in. 

_ You do,  _ thought Dark, but he brushed off the thought, sitting down near Mark.

“You’re doing well for your first day,” said the Tear Stealer, pushing a plate of food towards Mark. He glanced down at it, stomach rumbling, yet something told him not to eat it. 

Still, despite the kindness these Evolveds had given him, they’d still kidnapped him.

Mark forced a smile and bowed his head in the slightest. “Thanks,” he muttered. Dark nodded, and he folded his hands under his chin, elbows resting on the table as he gazed at Mark.

“I merely want to discuss the facade we’ll be giving you,” said the Tear Stealer as Mark grabbed a piece of bacon. “The…  _ character  _ you’ll slip into when you go to Antinstine’s city.”

Mark took a bite, but it tasted sour as soon as Dark said those words. He set down his food, jaw tense.

“What would that be?” asked Mark reluctantly.

“People already believe you’re an Evolved,” said Dark. “We just need to give you a believable ability.”

“I kill people,” said Mark a matter-of-factly. “Isn’t that enough?”

The Tear Stealer chuckled and shook his head. “No,” he said. “You need something like—looking a few minutes into the future, or increasing people’s pain.”

“My signature is strangulation,” said Mark, pushing his plate away. “I’ll just have a strong— _ hand _ ability or… some shit.”

Dark rose a brow, and Mark only shrugged, already tired of the conversation. 

“It could work,” said the Tear Stealer. “Your ability will be strangulation.”

“Good enough?” asked Mark.

“A low-class ability,” sighed Dark, running a hand through his hair. “We’ll work on something.”

Mark frowned at his statement, and Dark motioned to his untouched plate.

“Eat,” he said. “You need strength for what we’ll do next.”

Mark scoffed and rolled his eyes, reluctantly bringing the plate closer to him. “Uh-huh,” he mocked. “And what’s that?”

Dark’s eyes glimmered, and he watched Mark take a bite of his breakfast.

“You’re going to fight me,” he said.


	19. UPDATE

I’m moving this story to a different account! I don’t like having RyeAmbrose attached to it, so I’m making a separate account with the same psueds, SheeraAyame. I’ll update you when I post the first chapter there :)

Love, Kass xoxo

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Tell me what you thought in the comments :)
> 
> Have a wonderful day, and stay safe out there!  
> -SheeraAyame


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